The Deserter
by Tw1st
Summary: I pressed my lips together into a hard line just before I whispered, "I'm a deserter. It's what I do." The story of Atton Rand. Atton/F.Exile
1. Preface

**Preface**

_There was something_ **different**_._

_For a while it was quiet in the internal boundaries of the small room. Off in a not-so-far corner a woman sat very still and put-out, dwindling beneath the moth-balls that flit through the air just above the peak of her head. There was a ray of light glancing off of the wall behind her back, illuminating the twists of red hair that clung to her sweat-caked forehead. Behind her, above her, surrounding her – there were beams of electric energy that threatened to burn the very flesh from her bones; that is, if she proposed to move. Her wrists were both bound tightly with heavy metal clasps that looked as if they were a hard weight upon her tired and weak limbs._

_It was truly a miserable sight to behold to the kind eye._

_But, it was something that the man in the room was used to. He, on the very other hand, had a bored expression plastered to his young face. His autumn brown eyes were cold and empty and his emotions were raw upon his sleeve; careless, unenthusiastic and relentless to the prodding of his captives pain._

_It had been an excruciatingly long day. He had killed very early in the morning – the usual – and he was now bound to his tiny hutt-sized imprisonment quarters where he awaited the death of his current victim. It was nothing out of the ordinary routine for him. He felt no pity, he felt no agony and he certainly felt no bit of remorse for what he was planning to do to her next..._

_And yet there was something _**different**_ about today._

_Today, in the back of his mind, he felt as if he was being constantly interrogated by this particular woman. Sure, he had dealt with plenty of Jedi – hundreds – and they always tried to reach into the privacy of his mind, usually shocked to find that there was no 'free entry' like most. And yet today – very unlike any other day– he could not get her to stop trying._

_This Jedi woman was_ **different**_. _

_She just would not give up. He had tortured her all day and then some. He had relentlessly thrown everything he possessed towards her – and yet she would not let go of that very thin line that she clung so desperately to. It was the line between life and death. To put it simply, she just wouldn't die, this woman. She wouldn't even give death a chance. _

_And for some reason, very unknown to this man, it bothered him. It bothered him so much that, though he tried his very best to deflate her, she was beginning to narrowly bypass the blockade of walls that he had built up around his mind. He was so busy trying to figure out why she was still alive and what would make her want to stay alive that he had forgotten to remain a sturdy barrier. He had forgotten to do one of things he was so very good at doing. _

"_Jaq,"_

_The man's ears twitched at the sound. She was awake again. Surely that was impossible, she had been appeared to be so exhausted from the torture. His booted foot fell from the table that it had so recently rested upon and he spun around in the chair that he had been comfortably seated within. _

_This time, when he laid his eyes upon her, he felt _**different_._**

* * *

There had been rumors all over Nar Shadaa that promised anyone could make good money at the mining facility on Peragus. I hadn't really been expecting those rumors to be a lie, but it of course was an outcome that I had fully anticipated. So obviously, bitter as I was to admit it, the whole entire journey to Peragus in itself wasn't _really_ just some ploy to gain more Pazaak money. Sure, that would have made the entire gallivant across the galaxy all the more worth-while, but it was not my initial reasoning. My initial reasoning was to escape; escape the Refugee Sector that I had spent three years of my life hiding in, escape the twisted mess I was beginning to entangle myself within, and most importantly escape from myself.

My decision to come to Peragus had been on quite a tight-whim which was very unlike me, and like most of my plans usually uncoil to become it had been more of a headache than I had hoped. But more than that, I just couldn't reconcile the constant dreams that I was having – reliving – and it was driving me to the verge of insanity. Or, perhaps I was just becoming overly-annoyed with myself and I had forced myself to believe that I had run out of options.

So, naturally, the first time I had gone to Mrs. Nurse at the medbay about my desperate need for a sedative, remedy, (or suicidal pill) anything to cure my anxiety dreams, she eagerly fell to my needs. However, after three more returns she became stubborn.

"I highly doubt you are still in need of my medicine, Mr. Rand."

Oh, Mrs. Nurse sure had become a bitch.

Perhaps she was sour towards me for not ever calling her by her parent-given name – Korlyyn, or something hideous like that – though I wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of a name. Especially now that she had refused to give me the medicine that I most certainly needed; prescription or not. In fact, while on the subject, this medicine wasn't really even what I would consider a prescription kind of medicine – at least not the kind anyone would properly need to cure up an ailment. It was more of a "knock your ass out, and hope to wake up in the morning" kind of medicine. The kind I needed. The kind where, when I did sleep, I didn't dream. Kind of like a quart of strong terisian ale.

In a much more sensitive light, and in a much more "looking back on my darker moments" kind of light, _perhaps_ she was right. Maybe I didn't need medicine to rid my mind of those nightmarish memories...

…

I could never convincingly lie to myself.

Either way, that was why I had gotten myself into trouble, once again. In fact, as soon as Mrs. Nurse turned her back for just a fragment of a second I had slunked over to the back wall, broken into the computer module, expertly snuck my way into the cabinet of medicines, twisted the tips of my glove-bare fingers through the tender lining of 'cations that didn't bare for my needs, and stole what I had been looking for.

And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for that meddling room-mate of mine who had caught me taking a dose. Or three.

I can hardly say that I blamed him much, though. Everyone in the mining facility was looking for a chance of redemption anymore, in any way they could grasp onto it; whether it be fixing things, accomplishing things, or turning in your drug-addict room-mate. Especially now that a Jedi had been recovered. We all – and I say _'we'_ lightly, because I wasn't really part of this crap – wanted some moment of glory that would distract our nerves from the possibility that more Jedi (or worse) were on the way. But that's just common knowledge in the galaxy anymore; where there is one living Jedi, there are sure to be things in pursuit of its capture.

Either way, I was no-later apprehended by the station security for a "security violation" that wound me up inside of a Force cage.

Well at least _this_ arrest (unlike so many others I had obtained) made some amusing amount of sense – if you had a twisted sense of humor.


	2. Relapse

**Relapse**

Let's backtrack in a montage sort of way; except, without the music, and with much more effort on your part:

When I first arrived on Peragus, swaggering in my own steps as my feet uncomfortably collided with the cement flooring, I was about fifty-percent positive that I had made one of those horrible decision. Y'know, the kind of decision where you find yourself wishing you hadn't been bantha-fodder drunk when you initially made the decision. If it wasn't the immediate discovery that I was the only man with a full-set of teeth on this planet that had set my 'bad idea' alarm off, it was the fact that my lungs had been harshly attacked and strangled by the impact of the dense planet. The planet smelled like oils and coppers, two things that I had naturally never grown comfortably immune to, and my head was spinning with a light-headed over-abundance of toxins. I immediately missed the familiar smell of sex, regret, and perfume that usually clogged the cantinas of Nar Shadaa. I felt as if I needed oxygen and women, pronto. And, as if the dizzying oxygen-lack wasn't enough, I was being physically tried when a tall gangly man with absolutely no arm muscle thrust my bag of belongings into my hands. That was disappointing. This man looked as if he were supposed to be about nineteen, though his face was ashy-gray and looked closer to the ancient carvings of thirty.

So, this was what happened to people on this planet; you came here to work and never left, growing in age at a much more rapid pace than God-intended and never feeling the love of a woman or a toothbrush. This was going to be so much fun.

As I shuffled further past the busying workers of the mining facility the heavy despair momentarily vanished and fascinated interest took its place. Luckily there was a fifty-percent chance that I had made a good decision, still clinging to my conscious. Peragus was much darker than I had suspected. There was no sun orbiting its atmosphere and this was something I was very-much used to. I was suddenly comfortable here and it felt much more like 'home' than I had ever believed to be possible. My true comfort spot was hundreds of light-years away, back on the planet of Nar Shadaa. However – probably due to my lack of proper treatment to a common authority – I would not be welcomed back there for a very long time. This sparked yet another positive light onto Peragus for me, I didn't have a horrible record here and therefor I didn't need to spend most of my life hiding away.

Though, in honesty, Peragus as a whole was merely a planet for people to run to. To hide. Well – to hide, and find work, among other things. But still... it felt right for me to be here the further I began to ponder it. So, as best as possible, I decided I would make what I could of the experience and collect enough credits to blast myself across the galaxy in search of a better (much cleaner, more full of women) planet to plant my roots _for good_.

Some time, much after my first un-fascinating adventure around the entire facility, I had become absentmindedly attached to one particular area of the giant station; the hangar bay. This attachment only became obvious to me when I became aware that every time I was feeling pissed-off at the galaxy I wound up here, mixed among mechanics and pilots, intently watching as the ships rolled in and out of the hangar. This might have been caused by my prior piloting experience that drove me into an oggling-mess whenever I saw a ship that particularly caught my attention. It was a strange fascination, not very different than that of the bumbling idiots back on Nar Shadaa who would pay big credits to see high-tech and over-the-top fancy pod racing. Though, I had successfully convinced myself that my interests in vessels couldn't be compared to other horrible addiction of mine like say – oh – Pazaak.

Aside from the hangar bay I spent an excessive amount of time in the medbay for the first few days of my arrival. This wasn't for any ailment reasoning, but more-so a typical way to calm my nerves and a few other distractions that had begun to weld up over a short amount of time. Dreams, to be specific, were sifting quickly into a heavy burden of nightmares that were (as I so expertly put it), "Making my work-eithic lazy". Was I lying? Maybe. But it made enough sense to the head nurse at the medbay – the woman with perfect dark skin and invitingly-plump lips, who always held herself in the most up-lifting way – to aid my needs and give me a small dosage of medication.

"Just until you get used to this planet," she had hummed melodically at my back as I nodded appreciatively and turned away, "then you should be sleeping better on your own."

I could see it in my head as she spoke and it reminded me of something... oh, a good smack in the back of the head, I think. Of course that was just my luck. There were no drug-addicts on this planet (much unlike the Refugee Sector on Nar Shadaa), and the only place that I could get a free-glance at medication was deliberately un-cooperative to my needs. And, trust me, I _needed_ to have my dreams destroyed for my own sanity.

A scheming thought – or, an act of desperation – began to form in my mind around the third visit to the medbay (and, unbeknownst to me at the time, the second-to-last visit) as I realized that Mrs. Nurse (which I had so fondly begun to call her) had decided I was no-longer in need of free medication. She told me that if I continued to take it on such a regular basis that it would do un-healthy things to my body, and that she could get fired for allowing such a distasteful occurrence to take place. I _almost_ asked her if I looked like I gave a damn – but, I held my tongue, figuring that being slapped across the jaw was not a fonder-moment that I wanted to look back upon when I inwardly relapsed my day.

After this experience of denial I had, of course, wandered aimlessly into the hangar bay and had found myself a comfortable wall to lean against. Today as I angrily glanced through the arrangement of ships in efforts to ease my fuming mind, I found a very curious-looking vessel that I had not become familiar with. This vessel was copper and white in color and it held a strange spherical shape that looked both aerodynamic and obviously fast. The more I drank in the presence of the ship the more certain I became that I had never seen it before. I would have remembered this ship.

"Rand!"

I recognized the voice before seeing the face. It was the mining mechanic with the bleach-blonde hair who had become overly-friendly with the idea of my presence. He must have been a lonely man, spending all of his time mingling alongside a huge battalion of droids, but I honestly could have cared less about his life.

But for now he was someone to talk to and he knew a lot more about the happenings around the facility than I ever did. In short; he was like my personal datapad, full of mostly-uninteresting information on things that I was too lazy to look into myself.

Turning around, plastering on the most friendly face that I could conjure, I leaned away from the wall that I was perched against and nodded my head in recognition. He looked like he usually did; goggles strapped to his forehead, mining uniform too-big for his body, yellow-hued skin with the threat of gray breaking through (like most people on this planet – I began to wonder how long it would take before I too became stone-colored) covering his arms and face, and the usual lop-sided grin that showed all of his front teeth (which he still possessed, unlike most people here).

Glancing momentarily at the rag in-between his hands that he was wiping oily-greases onto, I narrowed my eyes and motioned towards the vessel that I had just been overlooking. "Who's ship is that?" I asked coolly, not really caring to begin our conversation with a conventional greeting.

The mechanic's eyes followed my gesture and I watched as his tongue prodded at the internal side of his cheek in hesitation. "That," he began slowly, pausing to pocket his oil-rag, "is the Ebon Hawk."

I noted the way that his voice didn't particular enjoy speaking of it, so I naturally prodded further. "Who's the pilot?"

"Dunno." He said automatically, his tone resembling that of a droid. Man, he spent way too much time around those things. I had a strange feeling they would be the death of him, one way or another.

"Where did it come from?" I tried again.

"Space." He said numbly, very unhelpful.

I became immediately annoyed by his aversion to what I wanted to know and I unhinged my jaw in a very aggressive manner. "Well who was on it?"

I could tell that my questions were starting to bother him, though this particular one seemed to ignite a different reaction; surprise. "Haven't you heard?"

As if my constant questioning hadn't been enough of an answer to his pointless inquiry! I swallowed hard and ran a hand through my hair. The leather gloves on my palms scraped against the brown locks that had gathered an immense pile of dirt and soot across my scalp and I flinched a the feeling. Such a filthy planet, Peragus...

"Nope." I said slowly, refraining the urge to smack him across the head.

His eyes bulged and he leaned slightly forward. "There was a Jedi on it," he said in a low voice and then continued at his regular volume. "She had been attacked – well, her and others that she traveled with – but practically everyone was dead by the time we found the vessel."

"A Jedi?" I repeated, my accompanying grimace unimpressive and lame.

Adjacent to this two pilots strolled by us and I heard one of them whisper loudly, "and have you heard the prices they have on the bounties for Jedi?"

Apparently everyone was all a buzz about this, now. If I hadn't heard it from the 'friendly mechanic' it probably would have taken me a span of twenty minutes to over-hear it from somebody else. So, this was what the workers of Peragus spent their days mulling over? Unimpressive incidents that really meant nothing to anyone? I had to admit, however, it was a little strange that a Jedi would wind up on a shit-for-nothing planet like this. God, I despise Jedi...

The mechanic twitched his lips in agreement to my initial response, and waited to continue until the two men were out of sight. "Everything has gotten weird since she arrived..."

I creased my eyebrows and stopped listening. I must have overlooked the first time he had announced that it was a woman, and a sudden relapse of pain twisted down my spine, diving straight into the pit of my stomach. A guilt that I had spent years to deplete was beginning to rise up again, unhinging the nails that I had beat against the internal walls of my horrible memories core. A_ female_ Jedi. Here. It was suddenly beginning to affect me in the same way that it seemed to be affecting the blonde mechanic. This couldn't have been good news for anyone – _especially_ me. I suddenly felt like I needed more medication...

"... you know what I mean?" The mechanic repeated, waving a hand steadily before my face as my eyes came back into focus.

"Mmno," I mumbled, grinding my teeth together at the annoyance of his hand, "I wasn't listening."

"Oh," this didn't seem to phase him, and he began again with his story. "Well ever since she got here the droids have been acting kind of _weird_. They have been very hostile – well, hostile for a droid. Even the T3 units have been trying to kill people - "

I laughed at this, and he stopped talking, eying me as if I were crazy.

"I'm serious," he stated in a very matured tone of voice. "They killed a few people down in the mining facility."

I gnawed on my tongue, bored.

That urge to return to the medbay and retrieve another handful of med's – at any cost – was beginning to overpower all other functions of my mind. Maybe I was, in fact, crazy.

* * *

"I highly doubt you are still in need of medicine, Mr. Rand."

Her voice was like nails across the exterior of a pod racer. It broke into my skin and beat me over the head repetitively, like a horde of bugs stinging my skull over and over. I stared at Mrs. Nurse's face in a pathetic frown and I brought my hands up to my face in a cupped, pleading manner. I was trying to be cute – she wasn't buying it. I followed her around the room, dropping any common excuse for needing more medicine, but she was acting as if I wasn't there and did an incredibly-accurate job of ignoring me. However, eventually, she couldn't take it anymore and demanded that I leave.

Pouting, I walked from the room and placed myself skillfully against the wall, hiding behind a white barrel-shaped case of medpacs. There I sat for about ten minutes, waiting until Mrs. Nurse found something in dire need of her presence, and she left. I was eventually satisfied that she was gone for certain and probably wouldn't be returning any time soon. All I could do now was hope that she would be gone for at least ten minutes while I expertly hacked onto her computer and unlocked the case of medication.

When I was successfully inside of the computers main source I scanned my way through a long list of commands, selecting the most necessary one for my relief. I should have just left it at that. I should have just overlooked the funny little line across the screen that read "PATIENT INJECTIONS", and been about my business. I should have just stuck to what I am good at, which is caring about me, myself and I, and walked away... but curiosity got the better of me. Glancing around me to make sure that Mrs. Nurse had not decided to make her way back into the room, I brought my attention back to the computer and selected the soon to be doom-of-my-life. What came up next both confused and shocked me.

Five injured people were in kolto tanks recovered from the Ebon Hawk.

The medics at the med bay had injected and killed four. _Killed_ them.

The Jedi, on the other hand, was kept alive – very, very unconscious.

I knew enough about Jedi and medications to understand what had happened. Someone – I assumed it was Mrs. Nurse and other psycho's in the mining facility – had given the Jedi an injection that would presumably knock her out for many, many hours. There were only two reasons that I could come up with for why they would do this; they either feared the moments of when she would awaken – what she would possibly _do_ to them – _or_ they were planning to transport her. Either way... there was no reason for them to give it to the four other survivors.

Or, rather, victims.


	3. Doomed

**Doomed**

I didn't really expect anyone to come back to me in my Force cage for an hour or two (not after the way I had criticized their facial bone-structure and threatened to do unthinkable things to their mothers if they didn't release me), but it was all in good fun. At least_ I_ was having an amusing time during our literately-descriptive and interesting conversations; but now it had become increasingly obvious to me that I was the only one who had been having even a lick of fun. In all honesty it was becoming very, very convenient – too convenient – that they had all just decided to leave me for two whole days without a crumb of bread or even a damn sip of water – not a _damn sip_! Now, it was all I could do to remorse on the good ol' days when I was young and unaware of the blessings I had (to be given food).

My stomach made a sound of discomfort and abuse, and I ducked myself forward in a cowering motion, rubbing at the brown and white fabrics that hung tightly around my starving body. If I had to describe the sound my stomach made it must have been similar to the cry of a dying cath-hound that had just been mulled over by a speeder – though, I couldn't honestly say I had ever heard the cry of a dying cath-hound that had just been mulled over by a speeder. Either way, the difference could not have been wide in opposition, and I was more than happy to imagine that that was the sound a dying cath-hound would make – especially since, at the rate things were going, I was standing in my death-spot, just days away from turning placid and lifeless. And would these people even care of I died? They hadn't even bothered to come in and say anything to me in two days. Had they forgotten about me?

Then a thought occurred to me. A thought that had a conclusion to which I had most diversely attempted to avoid, but it was inevitable. This thought was brought on by the image of my own death – or perhaps the slow starvation and lack of nutrients to my brain – and was becoming more and more evident the longer I stood in the Force cage. Perhaps, and only just perhaps, everybody was dead. Maybe that Jedi had escaped from her tank and was now on a mad rampage, killing everybody in sight. Or maybe the Jedi's Jedi friends had come to help her, and had killed everybody in the process. Or maybe the Jedi's enemies had blown everybody's heads up with their minds. I couldn't say I would object much to that...

Or, maybe it was all of those damn droids that I had been working with – along with everybody else – down in the main mining area. Those damn droids that clicked their heads and beeped their boops and had driven me almost if not entirely crazy with their constant jittering. It wasn't so much the T3 units that got to me, though they certainly weren't doing much for their personal benefit for organic appreciation upon them. No, it was more of the HK droids that I loathed. The HK's, along with a few other four-legged mine-crawlers, had a bit more advanced way of attacking things that didn't agree with their programming. I had seen and fought against too many 'special programmed' droids to really trust any of them; and I had witnessed quite a few of the 'friendly' droids malfunction in deadly ways. In fact, upon recollection, I now began to imagine that the blonde mechanic had been correct. It only made sense to me now in my dying stupor.

I felt my eye involuntarily twitch. _'Damn droids. Can't be trusted.' _I repeated it internally within my head, not really wanting to audibly project anything with fears that everybody was in fact_ not_ dead, and instead they were all gathered around a monitor, watching me, waiting for the moment that I would completely lose it.

I absentmindedly glanced up towards the surveillance camera and sneered. I hoped they were all dead – all except for maybe that brilliant chef that worked down near the dormitories. I could use a good meal when I busted out of this cage.

Cage. I couldn't help but smile at the idea of being inside of a cage. Sure, this wasn't the first time I had been within a Force cage. It probably wouldn't be the last, either. Na, trouble seemed to follow me wherever I traveled. And, whoever I traveled with would usually have the pleasure of encountering the comforting access-baggage of my burden as well.

How long had I been sitting in here? Sigh.

After what seemed to be ten more hours – probably about twenty minutes later – I maneuvered myself onto the floor of my Force cage, ignoring the lingering sounds of the buzzing and threatening field around me, and I crossed my legs in attempts to keep them out of harms way. The sound of my knees buckling and crunching under their lack of movement for the past forty-eight hours rang around within my ears as I grabbed a hold of my ankles and pulled them in tighter. Well, this was not going to be pleasant. I hadn't slept in two days and the idea of sleeping in a meditative-position was not something I was becoming particularly fond of, but it was seemingly the only way I was going to survive another day in this mess. Wetting my lips, running my tongue over the dry and patched spots, I struggled with the overlapping urge to close my eyes.

I had intentionally avoided sleeping without some kind of knock-out medication for a maddeningly long time. I didn't want to dream about _her_, or anyone for that matter. I preferred to see nothing but darkness.

Slowly, slowly – much too slowly – my lids began to collide. The room that I had once been so intent on beaming upon was now becoming dark to me, as if it were never there. A curtain was falling. The show was over. Maybe I would never wake up.

Life sure is pointless. We live a horrible life full of confusion, regret, and hardship, then we die.

* * *

_The man bit down on his lower lip and squared his shoulders in confusion. Slowly he stood up, not fully prepared for what he would do next, and walked cautiously towards the Force cage. As he stared down upon the Jedi woman he found himself involuntarily kneeling down before her in a somewhat dazed-perfection of amazement._

"_Why do you struggle so much?"_

_He backtracked. His own voice scared him. It was so young and full of life – and yet it was masked with a musky un-used grumble that slightly frightened him. He hadn't spoken in a while – what was it, weeks? And he had certainly never addressed a prisoner before. No matter how many times this Jedi woman had persistently called to him - "Jaq, Jaq, Jaq" - he never acknowledged her._

_Her oval eyes rolled up to meet his gaze. As soon as their eyes locked into a fixated capture, the man felt a tug on his heart strings and his peer narrowed in aggravating discomfort. Just like that, it was all over. All of his training was for nothing. All of those years of successfully hiding and blocking them out was for nothing. She was drinking him in; pushing into his mind and sifting through every thought and memory and possession of power that whisked through the depths of his mind. He had never felt so naked in his life. All at once, just like that, he had let his guard down and been read through like a book in a series of seconds._

_Or perhaps he wasn't letting his guard down. Perhaps she was just_ **that**_ strong. But, impossible! She was so close to death..._

"_Jaq," her voice said, weakly, "they mustn't know."_

_The man's eyebrows wavered up and down. He wanted to be angry with her for stealing his thoughts and peeling into his mind – but he couldn't. He couldn't find it in himself to even torture her for what she had done. Curiosity hailed him, and he took a step closer, hovering his face mere inches from the Force field._

"_What? What are you mumbling about?"_

_The Jedi's gaze fell and she sighed heavily. The sigh was full of pain and regret, and yet she still held herself in a posture that was so perfect and proud. "Those who you have allied with. They will see that you are Force sensitive..." she trailed off in occurrence to the man's quick reaction. _

_The man's eyes widened and he took a staggering step backwards for a change. "Force sensitive?"_

* * *

Something woke me up.

I wasn't sure exactly what had awoken me. I wasn't sure if it was real, or if it had just been a very strange part of my dream that didn't exactly fit... but either way, it sure got my eyes to jolt open in one swift split of a second. Blinking, trying to focus on the room around me, a groan of discomfort split through my lips as the burning tingle in my legs started to pulse through my skin. I didn't know how long I had been asleep – stuck in this position – but my knees were screaming for a relief. Carefully, slowly, I pressed my shaking palms into the Force cage's flooring and I pushed myself into a standing position. My legs wobbled beneath me.

_'She's coming, you fool, wake up.'_

I didn't recognize the voice. It was harsh and demanding, yet soft and knowledgeable at the same time. I didn't even think that was possible in a tone – but it was, in my head, all of the sudden. I blinked around me in expectation. Was this another stupid joke? Were the idiotic miners of this planet just screwing with my mind in hopes to unhinge my nerves? Well, it wouldn't happen. I immediately fell into a hostile mood and glanced up at the surveillance camera for the second time.

"Oh, haha, very amusing you morons." I then flipped the camera a gesture that would have undoubtedly enraged anyone who was watching me. Feeling accomplished and very assured that it was actually a person being 'funny' and not just me going insane, I curved my chapped lips up into a satisfied smile and wrung my gloved hands within each other. That would teach them to mess with me.

But what if it wasn't them? This thought occurred to me at a very un-compelling time and I felt the back of my throat go dry. And, for that matter, what if I wasn't going crazy? Then who was in my head, waking me up? And what were they trying to warn me of? 'She's coming'? Who the hell is 'she'?

Then something happened that I didn't expect.

A feeling jolted through me – very unexpected to me – and yet very familiar. It was a feeling that I hadn't felt in a very long time, not since I had been in the 'business', anyway. I hadn't even been exposed to something like this since I had jettisoned myself to Nar Shadaa, and I hadn't been expecting this kind of encounter for a very long time (if ever again). I didn't realize until this moment that I had inwardly hoped to never come across this feeling again.

A cold and very unnerving shiver twisted down my spine and wrapped itself around my gut. I was now aware of the fact that I had somehow twitched my glare off of the camera and had moved it onto the door of the prisoner room. I don't think I was blinking. I don't think I was breathing. I don't think a muscle in my body was moving.

All of the sudden I knew _exactly_ who 'she' was. _Who_ had forewarned me – now, that was a different issue _completely_ – but I was trying to tackle one problem at a time. A series of very sporadic questions suddenly sprang into my mind, causing me to suck in a huge breath of air that I had been denying myself. I felt like I had just been punched in the stomach by a horde of thoughts that would immediately push me over the edge into a process of 'the worst'. Oh, and I hated being there. Because – in truth – I have a very strong imagination that never fails to imagine 'the worst' of any situation; loneliness, death, torture, without credits, lack of sensual attention – it was always bad!

How would I even handle myself if those doors opened? I was unarmed, unprepared; pretty much the definition of a sitting target. What would I say if I had the chance to speak? How about, "hey, I celebrate your existence – please don't kill me"? And – if not the most important thing – what if 'she' knew who I was … what I had done? No – that one I didn't even _want_ to think about. I knew what I felt, and I knew I was right, and I knew that if that feeling lead to an encounter then I would be no sooner dead where I stood.

But this also meant that my accusations had been correct. _ Everyone_ was probably dead. Everyone except...

The door whisked open with an unfriendly yet all too familiar hum.

Luck was never on my side. Life hated me. I inhaled my last breath...


	4. Irony

**Irony**

What happened next was certainly something I hadn't anticipated. Well, I thought I had anticipated it, but of course when I actually laid eyes upon the woman entering I had never anticipated her to be in slinky, revealing attire. In my mind I was expecting a power-crazed Jedi, who was probably extremely pissed off, dressed in the big bulky robes with a giant light saber held tight in her hand, prepared to smite me where I stood. However, that was not what I saw – not at all. Instead of robes she was practically naked, and not at all power-crazed (in fact, more confused than anything else), and she possessed nothing to match the dramatic effects of a light-saber – simply a vibrosword that looked flimsy in comparison. I felt a bemused tickle stretch up into my throat at my own stupidity; I had been worried for absolutely no reason. Practically forgetting that she was a Jedi at all, I allowed my eyes to momentarily loom over the underwear-adorned woman who stalked slowly and hesitantly into the room. My gaze absentmindedly rested on her chest for probably more time than should have been permitted, but – really – this whole 'Jedi' get-up that I had initially prepared myself for all seemed like a rather amusing and far off past at this point.

She sure did _feel_ like a Jedi, though...

Quirking the corner of my mouth upward I lastly drew my eyes up to the woman's face. She was pale white with cold eyes – eyes that I couldn't tell what color they were; gray, soft brown, hazed blue? I couldn't tell. Her platinum hair was pulled back into a tight tail behind her head, and the tug on her forehead from the combination looked roughly painful. Her cheeks were narrow, her lips were oddly dark, she had short lashes, and there were circles beneath her eyes that proved to be the result of heavy years. I believe that her height ranged between five foot two and five foot three, but I'm not a damn measuring stick – she was short, let's just say that. In conclusion she was attractive, I suppose, but I had seen better.

"_Nice_ outfit." I finally scoffed, bringing one of my hands slowly up to my head and brushing my fingers through the dark hair.

The woman inhaled heavily – annoyed – and I watched the way her chest pumped upward with the intake of air. I arguably think, even though she might not have been the most gorgeous creature in the galaxy, her chest was pure perfection. I would have been contented to just watch her stand there in her half-naked stupor, but of course (like all women do) she had to ruin the moment by opening her mouth. "Who are you?"

As she spoke I was reminded of my fears from earlier. Her voice was heavy, commanding, and very strong. This woman was not messing about. Most men my age would find that feature in a female to be overly-attractive, but I didn't. I actually felt a bit angry with the way she seemed to think she was better than me – and why? Because I was in a force cage and she wasn't?

On further consideration, I found that this actually wasn't a horridly irrational reason...

"Names Atton," I replied slowly, shoving my fists into the pockets of my pants, "Atton Rand."

The woman shifted her weight and narrowed her eyes, her next words dripping with superiority. "And why, Atton Rand, are you in a force cage?" Great. She was feisty and small. Two things that – when combined in a woman – I positively hated.

I humorously lapped my eyes around me, examining the cage momentarily, then dropped my jaw in amazement. "I'm in a force cage?" I exclaimed sarcastically, rocking back on my heals and slapping one of my hands to my mouth. The woman looked less than amused, which also annoyed me, so with leisure I dropped the sarcasm and exhaled heavily. "Security claimed I violated some regulations. I would say you could ask them, but I assume they don't know you're out of your tank... I mean, I figured they would give you clothes if they willingly let you out, not that I object to you being in your underwea-"

"How did you know I was in a tank? Did you put me in there?" The woman immediately cut over me, jabbing an accusing finger in my direction. I half-hoped she would poke a few inches further so that she would burn the tip of her limb, causing her to writhe in pain... perhaps that was just me and my old 'habits' leaking back into control – or, perhaps I was just so starving that my mind had morphed into insanity.

Attempting to catch up with the woman's false accusations, I pumped my jaw downward in dismay. She really had no sense of humor. "No, I'm not a medic. Everyone on Peragus knows about you." My stomach growled in immense pain and I rubbed at the source tenderly. "So, Jedi, you wouldn't happen to have some food on you, wouldya?"

"I'm not a Jedi anymore." She replied flatly, twisting the vibrosword clasped in her right hand back and forth with lingering distraction. She seemed to be watching the way the light hit off of its dull surface, and the more she twisted it back and forth the more dents and curves seemed to pop out in revealing. Apparently she had been fighting something – something without skin and blood.

"What have you been banging that thing against?" I asked suddenly, forgetting my hunger.

Dropping the weapon to her side, the woman favored her head slightly to the left and furrowed her brow. I think she was annoyed by my prodding and questioning, so she simply spit out one word. "Droids."

That answer pleased me – but only for a moment. It was great to see that somebody had realized how useless those things were, but a woman fighting a loud cluster of droids would draw attention. In fact, a half-naked Jedi wandering around the usually busy halls of Peragus would also (inevitably) draw attention. There was no blood on her blade, she didn't seem to have been in any kind of heavy battalion battle... I absentmindedly leaned as far to the right as my force cage would allow and glanced through the opened door behind her. The huge bridge beyond was absolutely empty...

As if she could read my gesture the woman ignited with questioning eyes. "What happened here?"

"Well before or after you showed up?" I replied, pressing my hands into the curve of my back and stretching as far as I could. A loud crack of relief rang up my spine, and I felt more cramped within the force cage than ever before. Maybe it was because I had been in it for so long or maybe it was because this woman was standing so freely outside of it, taking her free arm-space for granted. I figured I would continue, since she seemed to be eager for an answer, but I had decidedly agreed that I wasn't going to stay in here much longer. "Peragus is naturally a mining facility, that's what we do here. Period. But, when you showed up, there was a big argument of what to do with you, rumors of bounties spread all over – and, well, the whole facility began to get pretty hustled. That's all I know. I have been in here for a few days."

This answer seemed to displease her and she bit down upon her lip uneasily. For the first time since she had walked into the room I swore I saw a hint of sympathy splash across her features... something that I would think, as soon as she saw me hungry and weak inside of a force cage, she _should_ have shown. "I think everyone is dead."

This didn't surprise me like I think she had expected it would. I had originally figured something had happened to everyone, especially since they pretty much ignored my existence all together and I had fully hoped that something horrid had happened at this point. However, I figured it would have been her doing, and I wasn't prepared for _everyone_ to be dead – just many. So here we were, stuck in one of those many, many cross roads of life. The woman stared at me like I was supposed to know something, and I, too, looked at her as if she knew much more than me (because, at this point, she probably did), and neither of us were getting any answers. After a moment of silence, however, I think we both fell onto the same chilling conclusion; something had killed everyone, and we didn't know who pr what. I immediately assumed it was the droids. There was a long list of foreshadowing events leading to my beliefs that this would happen. And, now that it had, I truly wished someone – anyone – was still alive so that I could rub it into their face.

"Hey – let me out of here." I burst immediately.

"Why would I do that?" She asked, beginning to turn away from me. Panic rushed through me.

"I can help you!" I called out in a serious act of desperation.

She paused in a half-stride and turned her face slightly around. "How?"

"I'll tell you when you _let me out_."

"No, tell me and _then_ I'll let you out." She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in amusement. "Maybe." I was beginning to hate her. If she wasn't a woman – and if I wasn't in a force cage that would sizzle my arm off if I touched the sides – I would slap her.

I was harshly reminded why I hated Jedi so much and the very thought of actually helping her with _anything_ made me shiver with disgust. But I knew that if everyone truly _was_ dead then this small, annoying Jedi was my only way out of this cage. My mind began to race in efforts to come up with a split-second escape route. I inwardly kicked myself in the head. Escaping from shit-situations was something I was skilled at. My middle name should have been 'Escape'. I was the most well-known escape artist back on Nar Shadaa – but, for some reason, my mind was blank at this moment.

"Err..." I stuttered, chomping down on my tongue.

This looked like just the answer the Jedi had been seeking and she quickly disappeared, leaving me alone once again. It only took a few moments for the radiation of her Force-sensitivity to disappear as well, proving that she had completely deserted me. Stomping my foot onto the ground of my cage, anger pulsating through my veins, I recollected the hard emotions that had driven me to my old 'ways' so many years ago. I don't think I had ever hated any Jedi as much as I hated that one... and she was so typical. After the Mandalorian Wars, most Jedi had become extremely self-absorbed and wanted to be alone. They wanted to do everything alone – live, fight, even travel – alone. And that was what made my job so easy. They were such easier targets alone; now, I'm not saying they were ever _easy_, but certainly _easier_. I honestly believe that if they would have been in company on all of their journeys then they may not have been so 'extinct' today.

Grabbing a fist full of hair I released a loud list of explicates and shut my eyes tightly. Why had I decided to come here? There were hundreds of other planets I could have chosen from. If I hadn't messed things up so badly for myself back on Nar Shadaa then I wouldn't be in this mess I had fallen into now. In fact, if I had just chosen everything in my life differently, from the moment I was born, things would have been drastically different.

I listened to the soft buzz of the electric voltage surrounding me. It was starting to get annoying, too. I could feel my annoyance towards the pain in my stomach, the sound of the cage, and the ache in my body all turning into anger. This was _not_ going to be the last sound I heard before dying. I was going to get out of this stupid cage, find that bitchy Jedi – or ex-Jedi, rather – and make her regret not releasing me herself. I knew how to kill a Jedi. I knew how to torture a Jedi. I was one of the best Jedi-killers still remaining after the war. And, after I captured her (maybe killed her), I was going to collect the bounty on her head...

I relished in the thought of how many credits I would receive. I could really start over, like I had originally planned. I could change my name, buy a nice place on some desolate planet, gamble my Pazaak skills, become rich, and die a _bit _more pleased than I currently was. Sounded pretty damn good to me...

'_You two must work together if you have any hope of escape.'_

My racing anger-morphed-pleasure halted as the strange voice that had originally awoken me flooded into my head. It was much more eerie now that I knew for a fact it was not someone simply messing with me.

"Who are you...?" I demanded aloud, hoping that I would get an answer. I figured I was going crazy. In fact, I decided I had.

The Jedi's presence re-entered my nerves and my eyes shot open.

She had once again come back into the room and was looking extremely put-out. I was pleased to see her underwear again, so I momentarily forgot my urge to kill her. Her weirdly-colored eyes were staring at me with anticipation and confusion – almost like she was weirded-out by my sudden exclamation to nobody.

Shifting my weight uncomfortably, I gestured an open palm towards her and nodded my head. "Change your mind?"

A misplaced smile crept up to her heavy-colored lips and she looked as if she might laugh. "Do you always talk to yourself?" Then, very unexpected by me, she pressed her palm against a large button on the wall and the force barrier of my cage disappeared.

At first I thought this was a trick. She would wait until I stepped right across the line and then her hand would fly back onto that button, turning the barrier back on, slicing me in half. I considered the possibility that I was being paranoid. I decided I was paranoid. "You heard that voice too, didn't you?"

She was silent for a moment, as if considering. She knew something that I didn't. I knew that she knew _something_. "I don't know what you're talking about." I could tell she was lying, but I didn't care. I was so relieved to be free of that prison that – actually – if she hadn't been standing in the room with me I would have dropped to my knees, bent my face down to the slick silver flooring, and kissed the ground with crazy joy. Hopping out of the force cage area, I stretched my arms wide around me and spun in a circle, pleased with the feel of freedom.

The Jedi, however, was not a time waster. "Get us out of here."

What a way to kill my joy. I felt like I had jumped out of a prison just to be engulfed into the arms of hell. A hell that was, ironically, in the shape of a small _somewhat_ attractive woman who had once been a Jedi. Never in my life would I have anticipated a Jedi to be the savior of my escape. Savior or not, she was also going to fall into _my_ trap now.

However, in the back of my mind, I knew that the voice in my head was right. I couldn't get off of this planet alone. So, I would humor her... for now.

But I _would_ get my bounty.


	5. Alone

**Alone**

I wish I could say that my luck had somehow changed and that as we walked slowly from the prisoners chamber I somehow sneakily slunk my arm around the Jedi's annoying little neck and choked her into submission – but I didn't. In fact, it was rather the opposite. As soon as I was back into that giant noisy room of module beeps and bloops I was harshly stabbed in the back, nearly hard enough to break the skin. Turning sharply around on my heel, eyes wide with confusion, I found myself staring suspiciously at the tip of the small woman's vibrosword blade. Rubbing at my back in irritation my mouth dropped open to produce a long list of negatives in her general direction. No wonder the commanders of Peragus had drugged the hell out of her and left her to die in that little tank... she was the most _horrid_ excuse of a Jedi I had ever had the misfortune of meeting. And, trust me you, I have met hundreds.

"I'm in charge here, criminal." Her sturdy voice rang over mine. I felt like I was seven years old and my mother, of whom I purposely have erased from my mind, was lecturing me. "And so," she continued, pursing her lips and stomping over my words as I attempted to speak again, "you listen to me."

At first I was so shocked by this uplifting speech of hers that I just about listened to her. But, if you know me – which you don't, but if you did – you would know that I don't just drop things. In fact I preferably drag arguments on for weeks until my opponent either gives up or dies. Hopefully the latter... "Oh really?" I said, adding in a chuckle for good measure (and to watch her eyes narrow in obvious irritation). When she didn't answer, I continued. "Look, _woman_, I don't answer to anyone. We will play this by my rules and mine alone."

Now it was her turn to rebuttal – and, really, I should have seen this coming...

Yes, she poked me again, this time in the arm where my open flesh was peacefully minding its own business – and it hurt! Flinching away form her, batting at the sword like a baby, I released a childish "Hey!" which tumbled uselessly from my cringing lip. If it had been any other day – ANY other day – I would have probably punched her in the gut for that move. However, it was today, and I was starving and irritated and feeling quite vulnerable, and my strength against her strength at this particular point was probably questionable. So, really, I don't blame myself.

Shut up.

After her dark lips curved up into an eerily creepy smile she started up again. "Who has the weapon?" I refused to answer her stupid question. I knew she would continue anyway. "Me. And who let you out of the cage?" Again, I wasn't going to answer, I would instead stand in my stupor, waver back and forth on my feet, and picture myself anywhere but here. "Me. Oh – and who seems to have more common sense here?"

"Me." I said with a smile. I felt it was time I asserted myself.

She rolled her dull eyes up to the ceiling, like a child, and I suddenly didn't feel like the only immature one. Perhaps she was hungry as well. Not that I cared – she could starve, really. "I'm in charge. Let's not forget that you would have decayed in that force cage if it weren't for me."

"Somebody would have let me out eventually," I mumbled, turning away from her and glancing around the room. It was such a different mood now that there was no one else in the command station – especially now that I wasn't being drug through it roughly by the ear. I flinched at the recollection and absentmindedly reached for my right ear, rubbing at it softly.

"Right," that annoying voice echoed from behind me. "Because there are so _many_ people here."

"Listen here, woman – "

_'Stop wasting time! Find a way out of here.'_

I chomped down on my tongue and struck my forefinger deep into my ear, drastically trying to wiggle away that mysterious voice that once again audited out of nowhere. This time, however, I was prepared to glance at the Jedi, who was staring morosely down at the ground with narrowed eyes. I figured I would gamble my luck, since that is usually my favorite thing to do. "Maybe _they_ would have helped me." I said stubbornly, referring obviously to the mind-voice.

"I doubt she wou – "

"Ha." I interrupted, pointing a steady finger at the bridge of her freckled nose, watching as her peer slanted into a cross-eyed gaze while she followed my hand. "I knew you heard the voice, you pathetic little liar."

We were both quiet for a moment, me feeling pretty good about myself. Her strange colored eyes were blank and emotionless, and I could see the side of her cheek protrude slightly as her tongue wiggled around the inside of her mouth in annoyance."You are a child." She finally said, more calmly than I would have suspected. A typical Jedi move. "But she is right. We need to get off of this planet."

"She?"

"Yes, she!" She exclaimed, losing what composure and momentary respect I might or might not have held for her. "Great, I can see you will be _no help at all_."

I took immediate offense to this, but was inwardly reminded just how much better my reward would be when I turned her in for that bounty. Just play along, Atton, just play along...

"Now," the Jedi said, breaking my inward boasting, slowly making her half-naked way over to the main module and staring at it with wide confusion. I assumed the vast span of buttons and beeping lights was probably too much for her small brain to digest, so I aggressively followed up behind and elbowed her in the ribs, moving into her place as she stumbled to the left. I could hear her mouth take a loud intake of air as she re-rooted herself, therefor marking that she was preparing to yell at me for pushing her aside (I know women too well), but I simply threw my hand up and stuck my palm inches from the tip of her nose. I was sure this aggravated her, it _had_ to have, but she did nothing in response so I took the opportunity to speak.

"I'm checking the system for ships in the hangar." I reassured, jabbing away at the monitors adorning buttons. She seemed to be momentarily pleased with this explanation. I paused as I heard her shuffle around me, and the hairs on the back of my neck rose in adjacency to the feel of soft breathing against my skin. Shying away from the Jedi who was now peering over my shoulder, I looked at her warily.

"Why don't you try and contact help?" She muttered just above a whisper in a very condescending kind of way.

"Peragus isn't exactly popular." Everyone knew that. Peragus, though it was one of the best mining facilities in the galaxy, really wasn't in all that much contact with outer regions unless it was a business contact – and even then, there really wasn't much communication going in and out. After all, considering the occupants, I'm not quite sure anyone with a sane sense of mind would really want to speak to any of the dirty inhabitants of this planet. Peragus was really more like a prisoners escape. "It will be much easier to just get a vessel and jettison out of here."

"You're a pilot?" Her breath was brushing against my neck, all over my personal space. I'm not quite sure if she knew what she was doing, or was even aware of how close she was, but it was driving me absolutely insane. Naked woman, plus closed space, plus husky breath down the back of ones neck can equal one of two things; sexual attraction or serious annoyance. In this case, it was annoyance. Had it been _any_ other woman in all of the galaxy I might have immediately switched into my "interrogating intercourse" mode – but this was a Jedi, and a pest of a woman.

"No," my reply was sarcastic, "I just thought I'd close my eyes and start pushing buttons." I could feel her tense up a bit at this as she finally walked away and I found great amusement and relief in it. Weren't Jedi supposed to be calm and un-emotional all of the time? This little Jedi, from what I had digested in the last ten minutes of knowing her, was one tiny small bundle of irrationality and a roller-coaster of emotional control. One minute she was calm, the next she was doing everything she could to not blast through the roof. And that, I knew, was going to make our time together all the more enjoyable for me, as long as she stopped _literally_ breathing down my neck.

My thoughts were suddenly sidetracked when the heavy lighting of the monitor switched onto a red screen of 'access denied'. "Damn!"

"What?" The Jedi asked skeptically, and I could hear the squeak of her bare feet against the slick floor as she spun around to stare at me again.

"The hangar is locked." I spat, pointing angrily at the screen and glancing back at her.

"Perfect." She groaned, slumping her shoulders forward and slapping her hand to her face. I found this as an opportune moment to look her up and down again, which I freely did, until she removed her hand from her face and gawked at me in anger. "Would you focus!"

Slowly I brought my eyes back up to the Jedi's face, soaking in bemusement at the look she was shooting, and smiled coyly. "Maybe the mysterious 'she' could help us."

"No, she can't."

"And why not?"

"I don't have to explain it to you, criminal!"

"Didn't we already go over my name?"

"Would you at least _try_ to contact help?"

"Fine." But I wasn't really going to. I knew no one would reply, especially at this time of night, and that in itself should have been common knowledge to this Jedi as well – but, apparently, she was a clueless little thing. Tapping my fingers onto a few more buttons, closing and opening a series of different screens at a speed almost impossible to read, I finally found what I was looking for. "Ok!" I blurted in excitement, "there is a central controller in the mining tunnels – I don't know why it's there – but you should be able to open the hangar from it."

"Wha – me!" She took a step forward and stared me dead in the face, eyebrows raised almost all the way up to her hairline. She was almost cute...

But not really.

"I'm going to direct you around from up here." I explained. Really it made perfect sense to me – but she wasn't buying it. "Do you want to get out of here or not?"

"Alright, I'll do it."

I was almost surprised at how easily she was swayed. She was either really brave, or far more unintelligent than I had originally suspected. "Ok," I said slowly, slapping at a nearby comm and tossing it to her. I watched her delicate placid hands clasp around it and strap it securely onto what little clothing she wore before turning abruptly about on her heel and jogging out of the room in the general direction of the mining entrance. It was nice to view the back of her. She was as well toned from behind as she was from the front.

After what seemed to be ten minutes of twiddling my thumbs and looking through 'secret' files on the computer, I figured I should try out the comm. "Can you hear me?"

"Sadly."

"Great, well there should be a tunnel in front of you that loops to the right. Just follow it down until there is a fork, then take a left." I twitched my nose uncomfortably as a battalion of medal-morons popped onto the camera and radar. "I'm picking up a lot of droids down there though, so be aware of that. You might want to find a better weapon."

"I found a blaster and some clothes."

"Damn."

"What was that?"

"Nothing, just disappointed that you won't be naked anymore." She was quiet for a moment and I grinned at the inevitable response. "Did you just roll your eyes, by chance?"

"Probably."

"Women are so predictable."

"I'll comm you if I need you!"

Smiling at this, I set the comm back onto the module in front of me and shifted my weight uncomfortably. I stood for about five minutes, watching the screen as she made her way through the tunnels, wavering back and forth. A few more minutes passed and my arms found their way folded across my chest in boredom. She sure was taking a while...

Then the screen blanked out. Panicked – slightly – I tapped at the screen and pressed madly at some buttons. Nothing happened, except for a few error beeps, and the module re-set itself at the main menu, refusing to allow me access to her whereabouts. Obviously I had lost signal. I quickly reached for the comm and spoke into it, giving her a few seconds to reply. Nothing. I tried again. Nothing. Gnawing on the inside of my cheek I glanced back up to the module, expectantly waiting for her signal to reappear. When it didn't, I tossed the comm hopelessly back onto the computer's desk and sighed. I had figured there was a minor possibility that I would lose communication with her beforehand, I just decided not tell her in the fears that she might opt not to venture into the depths of tunnel-y darkness.

Tapping my foot up and down, stretching my arms out in front of me, I realized I had nothing left to do but wait. My stomach suddenly released a long-anticipated growl and I clenched at the spot tenderly, pressing my fingers into my side with a grimace.

* * *

The sound of my own footfalls was really rather eerie. I was alone in the long hallways for the first time since my arrival on Peragus and I could feel my ears twitch every time the heel of my foot clicked against the silver floor, emitting a rather loud 'tap' which would echo in rolling omniscience down the empty walls. At first it hadn't bothered me too much, but the further away I traveled from the main control room the more alone I felt. Sure, I was pretty much as alone in there as I was anywhere, but at least I knew it was safe in there. Now, much opposite to the feeling I had in there, I was clueless pray to whatever horrors had taken over in the first place. How had the Jedi traveled throughout here all by herself? It was so … creepy. In fact if I hadn't had that lingering and susceptible hunger pushing my feet forward I probably would have stayed where I was, waiting for her to return. If she ever did... blast the damn food storage for being so far away from the main hull!

My foot suddenly caught onto something that was hanging limply from the inside of an opened room to my right and a chill of fear sprung up my spine. Glancing down as I hopped narrowly to the side, my heart plummeted to the bottom of my feet as I realized what I had kicked was the limp arm of a man.

It wasn't like _he_ cared much, though. He was pretty dead.

And, it's not like I wasn't used to seeing dead people, and it's not that it bothered me to see, but I was slightly disturbed that the cause of all of this death was the doing of some unknown entity. Leaning closer to him, despite the putrid smell that I now noticed to be emitting from him, I spotted two blaster shot wounds on his chest. Droids. I knew those little bastards would turn some time... my stomach churned into something other than hunger as I thought of that possible consequence. What if whatever had killed all of these people killed the little Jedi too? There were a lot of droids down there and who knew how many of them had turned. How was I going to get out of here if she died? Shaking the thought, I reached my hand under the man's cold lifeless side and rolled him over, finding what I was hoping for.

Blaster now clutched firmly in my right hand I continued my way down into the depths of the empty hallway. I was unable to shake the thought of her being completely slaughtered and now being completely alone – save for that mysterious other person who kept intruding into my head. What would I do then? And how long should I wait up here for her until I decide she is most certainly dead? Knocking my heels a bit more heavily against the ground my pace slowed and I hiked my arm up to the back of my neck, pondering. Maybe I should have stayed longer and tried to make contact with her. My stomach growled...

Maybe not.

I would be lying if I told you that I could identify the clumped up cylinder of food I found, and if I said it was good I would also be lying, but it stifled that mad-driven hunger nonetheless. Luckily for me there were no dead bodies within the food storage for I'm not sure I could have downed my long-awaited meal with that kind of audience. Swallowing the last bit, not quite certain how long I would be able to keep it down, I began to feel a bit more like myself again. My mind immediately switched from 'get food' mode to 'be Atton Rand' mode, and I suddenly regretted not searching that mans dead body for loose credits.

I would have to stop on the way back through the hall.

* * *

"ATTON!"

Well, she wasn't dead. Yet.

Running back into the large control room, pocketing what little credits I had found, I nearly slammed my entire body into the main module as I reached quickly for the comm. "Yes – I hear you." I felt slightly guilty all of the sudden.

"Where have you been!" Her voice was brash and angry.

"I was..." The credits in my pocket felt like they were burning a hole into my thigh suddenly. Glancing up at the screen I was pleased to see that her radar had re-appeared onto the screen as well, except... "Why are you showing up _outside_ of the facility?"

"Look up."

Hesitantly, I flicked my eyes onto the outer walkway of the huge window before me and was half shocked and half pissed to find her, indeed, on the outside of the building. Clenching my teeth together I shoved the comm as close to my mouth as I could without inhaling it, and dug my nails into the module before me. "What in the hell are you doing out there?"

"I know what I'm doing, no thanks to you."

I was just about eating the comm piece it was so close to my mouth, and my knuckles were turning white with the hard grip. "Get. Back. Inside." Was she insane? I couldn't afford for her to die!

"Look, criminal, I'm going to get us out of here. That's all you should care about." I was quickly realizing that arguing with her was pointless, and that she was as stubborn as most 'independent' women were in this galaxy. She began to bounce agonizingly slowly in her space suit towards the door all the way at the other end of the walkway. I watched her like a hawk, gnawing on my cheek all the while, so irritated that if I didn't absolutely need her to be alive to escape, I might have shot her when she came back inside.

Also, that suit really didn't do much for her figure...

The module began to make soft melodic beeps to the right of me, driving me to switch my view onto something else. My eyes bulged halfway out of my skull as I realized what I was reading...

"Move quicker, woman!" I barked into the comm immediately adjacent.

Of course, this caused her to completely stop and turn around to face me through the giant glass window. Typical. Do exactly the opposite of what I said. "Why?"

"There is a ship coming in, and it's sending a docking code." I read momentarily over the code, not understanding much of it, and I wet my lips in anticipation. "I've got a bad feeling about this..."

Oh, and I did.


	6. Lies

**Lies**

My fingers were drumming against the modules of the control room. I was staring blankly onto the slick silver walls of the building, trying to imagine what it must have been like in here when people were actually alive. I could vaguely picture tight-outfitted officers and officials strutting around (better looking than anyone else on this planet), pretending to be busy, while doing absolutely nothing. Mainly because there was nothing to do up here. No ships ever came, and hardly any ever left that were worth mentioning. What would each member of this sad excuse of a facility do if they were alive at this moment, seeing that huge vessel docked to my right? They would probably be overwhelmed with confusion, not much different from myself…

I forced myself to glance up at the huge ship for the umpteenth time. It had been twenty minutes. Nothing had happened. No one had come off of the ship, and no one had gone onto the ship. It was just eerily sitting there, floating on an invisible dock, attached to Peragus with no sign of maliciousness. But something was wrong.

I clicked at the comm and inhaled deeply before spitting out what I hoped would get through to the small Jedi. "_Woman_!"

Nothing, again. She had not contacted me since I had watched her bounce agonizingly slowly across the walkway before me and disappeared into a locked-off section of the facility. I dropped my gaze to the smaller blinking screen and stared at her unmoving signal. She was either being difficult and had taken off the small device in which was to reassure me of her whereabouts, or she had taken a vow of still-ness and hadn't moved for twenty minutes.

There was only one thing I was absolutely certain. I was going to unleash an unthinkable wrath upon her when she returned. I was going to accuse her of being a complete idiot and tell her that she should have stayed inside of the facility like I had originally suggested. I was then going to somehow make all of our problems her fault and twist the new unidentifiable vessels arrival also onto her shoulders – which really wouldn't be all that difficult since she was a Jedi and mostly every single thing that goes wrong in my life has something to do with a Jedi.

It was going to be good, to say the least.

Considering that she was still alive…

Then I felt that familiar feeling of being in a presence of a Jedi.

"What in space is going on?" I accused blindly, turning away from the control module as soon as I felt and heard the Jedi's presence return for her long-anticipated arrival.

This was a much stronger feeling than I had originally apprehended though, and I must say I wasn't fully prepared for what I saw when my gaze mingled in a mixed confusion of taking in two separate bodies. Usually when two Jedi stood side by side I could feel the difference between them, making it easier to identify what I was up against. However this Force-current that I could plainly feel seemed to flow between the two – almost as if they shared it. It was something I had never encountered before, and it frustrated me to no end. Confused, I took a sparing moment to soak in the appearances of the new arrival, morphing my eyes into what I hoped appeared to be a look of disapproval.

This new companion of ours was shortened by heavy years and wrinkled to say the very least. Her eyes were covered by a veiled hood, which is usually a sure sign of having something to hide, and two long gray braids of hair hung low with splinters of silver. A queasy feeling rolled over my stomach as I let the realization of what I was looking at settle into the pit of my gut. She was definitely another Jedi, even though my sensitive skills did not immediately identify her as separate. She was very old too, and that made me even more uncomfortable with the knowledge I had acquired over the years. Older Jedi could be the most difficult type to deal with – and the most dangerous. Their experience and their years of knowledge were a combined lethal weapon against someone like myself… and from the looks of this particular masterpiece, she must have had at least a hundred and fifty years under her belt. At _least_.

"We have to leave. Now." The mouthy little Jedi began sternly, though I was still musing about the new companion she had apparently just lifted from the grave. In the back of my mind I was suddenly outnumbered. Yes, this should have looked like a blessing to have another 'being' on our side when a ship full of unknown things had just arrived. And yes, two Jedi against anything is a better gander than one Jedi and one ex washed-up pilot. However, I was instinctively doing old math lessons over and over in my head. Two Jedi plus myself equaled bad.

You can't teach an old kath hound new tricks.

"I thought you were going to the central controller to open the hangar." I said sharply, tightening my jaw. "And instead you brought back _this_." I made sure to emphasize the 'this' and looked the old Jedi up and down. She really wasn't that impressive at glance, but the more I stood in her presence the more I began to feel the separation of the Force between them, as if there was a break in the tie. She was strong. She felt like a Jedi… like an enemy. My fingers absentmindedly reached for the dead-man's blaster at my hip.

Both Jedi's tensed at the motion of my hand, though the 'ancient' one erupted in a low chuckle before any other suggestions were made. "I hope your sarcasm is as quick as your skill with a blaster. If not, our time together may be short indeed." I'm pretty sure that was a threat. However I was distracted by the distinctness of her voice and how it was smooth and struck me right where I had feared it might. That was the voice that had awoken me, signaling that this old woman had invaded my head several times. I suddenly felt awkwardly violated by the idea of her rummaging around in my private thoughts and I took a guarded step backward.

The old woman's thin dark lips quirked upwards into a sadistic smirk, leaving an everlasting first impression that stamped itself over my memory. She seemed to be satisfied with the frozen chill she had permanently wrapped around my spine and with that she turned and began to walk away.

"We don't have time for this! Let's go!" My first acquaintance barked to me in frustration, turning quickly on her now booted heel and egging me to follow after them. I stared at her back for a moment, stubbornly rooted in my position. She grumbled something inaudible under her breath, something that resembled the sound of a dying bantha. Her off-colored eyes searched my face for some kind of answer as to if I planned to follow or not, and her expression flashed to surprise when she couldn't find the answer. Ignorant woman. When was she going to realized that no matter how hard she tried she would not be allowed access into my mind?

Perhaps she thought I was going to follow.

Perhaps not.

Either way I had two options. I could continue on with these two Jedi – something that years ago would have been blasphemous to even consider considering. Or I could go my own separate way and attempt to survive on the skills I had acquired over the years – which would most likely prove difficult.

Turning back around to face the vast window span of space, I stared past the pleated glass into what I wished to be my escape. My heart sank at the thought of piloting a ship full of adventurers through the galaxy on a sleek ship that darted and soared in and out of fleeting battles and death-raging meteor showers. I longed to slip into a different life that would shape the existence of Atton Rand into a first class pilot, whose name would be remembered for eternity… but, that was a life before this one and had been long forgotten.

Exhaling heavily, I leaned forward against the beeping modules before me and ran my gloved hands along the silver panel. The smooth cold surface sang to my fingertips, reminding me how dead this planet was. Getting onto a ship and flying out of here was what I needed. I had been imprisoned on Peragus long enough. Well, a few weeks – but that was long enough. I never stayed anywhere for too long anyhow.

Inwardly I had made my decision. Shoving myself forcefully away from the modules I twisted my body quickly around and was immediately taken aback when I realized my chest was inches from the short Jedi's face.

Practically tripping over myself as to not smash into her, I stumbled backward to find my footing. Her thinly shaped eyebrows were raised in amusement at my apparent bewilderment.

I had assumed she'd already left.

I was never good with assumptions.

"We need a pilot." She began to explain, no-doubt to answer the questioning expression held on my face. "You're the only thing I've got, criminal."

The air in the room was thin. I chewed the thought of teaming up with two Jedi's around inside of my head for a moment. And that's when it hit me…

Two Jedi. Double the money for the bounty on their heads. Why hadn't I come up with that before?

My mouth watered with the idea of it and I might have cracked an unaware smile. "Alright." The plans were already forming in my head before I had to the time to fully swallow what I had just taken in. "But after we get off of this planet I'm leaving. Got it?"

"I look forward to it."

I looked forward to my bounty.

* * *

I caught her small body in my arms in an entangled eruption of confusion and fear. Her momentarily limp torso went into convulsions almost immediately in contact with my hands and she dropped her vibrosword to the ground with a loud clatter. My eyes searched her body for the source of the pain and I found the spot to be her left hand as she gripped it with a loud scream. "What's wrong!" I hissed through my teeth, slowly dropping us both to my knees so that I could more easily hold her to my body. She bit down on her lower lip so tightly that I could begin to see the skin turn pale white beneath the pressure. Her un-colored eyes refused to open wider than a squint as to release one or two small drops of salt-filled tears the ran gently down cheeks.

Desperate to somehow free her from the pain, I squeezed her into my chest and began to curse under my breath. This was not what I had planned. This I wanted _no_ part of. This was shit! "Damnit, hold on, woman! It's only a little bit further!"

I was practically yelling at her as her small elbow dug into my arm while she writhed in pain. "Don't give up on me now!"

We had been through so much already. We were almost killed by a crazed droid, we were almost killed by a crazed Sith aboard the Harbinger, we were abandoned by the old woman who was now fighting the crazed Sith, and were now currently trapped in a fuel line in attempts to get back to the Ebon Hawk. I had almost forgotten my whole purpose in staying with this bantha fodder as I watched the small Jedi woman twist and hiss with pain in my arms. If someone would have come up next to me in this very moment and asked for the bounty I would have blasted them in the face. I couldn't even think of money right now. I couldn't even think of what I was doing right now. All I cared about was making this pain stop - making her feel better. I wanted so desperately for her to be a bitch, and roll her eyes at me and stab me in the ribs with her vibrosword and say something irritating. At least she wouldn't be doing _this_.

Why did I care so much, you ask? I didn't know. I had watched Jedi die by my own hands hundreds and hundreds of times. I had watched them suffer in pain for years not only enduring it but _loving_ it. But, this was different. I _hated_ this. Closing my eyes tightly I wished desperately for it to stop...

Then, as suddenly as it has started, it stopped.

The small woman's breathing slowed and her tense body relaxed to a normal state. It was almost surreal how quickly it had all ended. One moment she was doing everything she could not to scream out in pain and the next she was fine. Slowly I opened my eyes and loosened my grip on her torso, pulling her away from my chest so that I could freely gaze at her face. Her glossy eyes drifted slowly up to meet mine and the small trace of a last tear trickled freely down the side of her cheek. Her placid skin flushed back to a normal golden color and the blood that had rushed out of her lower lip flooded back into color with ease. I was so dazed by the remarkable manner of how fast she recovered that I momentarily let my guard down … and that's when I felt her reach into my mind. Of course she would take advantage of me in my weakest moment. I knew better than to let my guard down. I knew better than to trust a Jedi.

Angry, I released her so quickly that she fell onto her back with a loud crack, then an "oof" protruded from her lips in shock. I straightened my back and stepped over her legs, making some distance between us. I couldn't believe what had just happened. I couldn't believe that in one moment she was practically dying on the ground, and the next she was taking advantage of the opportunity to take advantage of me! Kicking the ground, I whipped around on my heel and glared down upon her. "What was that all about?" I accused, adjusting my blaster on my hip.

The Jedi rubbed at the back of her neck and crinkled her freckled nose upward. She looked pissed, to be quite honest. "Did you just _drop_ me!" The way her voice squeaked upward at the word "drop" stabbed at my gut in annoyance. Well, I got my wish. She was annoying me again. She really was never going to learn to leave me and my mind alone, was she?

"Why are you asking stupid questions at a time like this?" I stammered, flailing my arms around me to emphasize the situation we were in. The fuel tunnel dripped with the thick humidity that clung to the air, and I could feel her anger mingling with it.

What she did next, however, was rather unexpected. Grabbing up her newest sword (she seemed most comfortable with those) the Jedi hopped onto her feet in one swift motion and jabbed the end of her blade towards my face. It all happened so quickly I could hardly digest a reaction – however, I hadn't gone through years of training for nothing, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the shocked expression on her face as she realized that my blaster was not only pointed directly at her face as well, but my finger was itching just inches from the trigger.

I doubt she expected that, either.

"Really?" I said slowly, admiring the shine that managed to bounce off of the silver surface of the weapon at my nose. "How are you going to fly the Ebon Hawk without me?"

"How are you going to…" she trailed off, frustration painted across her temple as the realization sank in. She had nothing on me. She was being insubordinate.

"Yes, Jedi, that's right. I don't _need_ you..." It sounded colder when it came out of my mouth. "But you need me." I said darkly, narrowing my eyes onto hers. There was something almost attractive in the way she got mad… or perhaps it was just growing on me, since that was the only reaction I managed to stir from her.

There was silence for a moment. Both her and I stood with our weapons at each others throats, threatening quietly and suggestively.

But her next words, delayed and tastefully sharp, tangled into my mind like a poisoned web. "Then why are you helping me, Atton?"

I knew the answer to that. I also knew that the answer to that would get one of us killed.

Squaring my shoulders back and exhaling softly, I lowered the hand that held onto my blaster and softly dropped my arm to my side. The answer I configured in my mind burned as it tumbled from my lips, leaving a horrid taste of betrayal in my mouth. "Because _you_ helped _me_."

Part of me wished it was true.


	7. Again

**Again**

_The man fell to his knees. A cloud of dust rose up from beneath him, circling and dancing softly against the small glances of light that stole its way into the darkness of the room. His breath was whispering through his lips; in then out, in then out. His eyes were focused on nothing, yet were so lacking in motion that he appeared to be fixated with something invisible before him._

"_Do not be afraid of the truth." The Jedi's voice cracked, tensing in an effort to speak past her apparently dried throat; dried with a lack of water and a lack of nurture._

_The man's right cheek jerked upward into a flinch. His brow furrowed downward adjacent to the harsh clenching of his teeth. His hands rolled into fists. "I am not afraid."_

_The woman's body appeared to cave slightly inward in defeat – which was seemingly impossible from the depressing stage she sat in. The buzz of the Force cage was all that could be heard for a moment's time. She stared at him through the boundaries of her prison, and he refused to make any means of general eye contact with her._

_Then, as if reignited with a new idea, she began again, "Fear is only the beginning of what may one day be your greatest weapon-"_

"_I am not afraid!" He belted over her, raising his eyes squarely to stare upon her in disgust. "And stop speaking in riddles."_

When I was very young I had been less than amused by the horrors of sleep. I don't recall what exact age I was at the time, but that's extremely irrelevant to me telling you this. What is actually relevant is that when I was young, and my mind was allowed to imagine up whatever horrible circumstances it wished, I had somehow created this colorful idea that sleeping was a horrifying affair between darkness and solitude. The whole atmosphere of sleep scared me; closed eyes, closed senses, closed off from the world. When you sleep, you have no idea of what goes on around you. If acts are being made quietly enough, you might never be aware of them. Think about – just for a moment – what sneaky and horrifying things may go on when you are in the 'safety' of your sleep…

Now picture yourself a young boy, who had reoccurring nightmares of being taken in his sleep. Yes, literally stolen away in the middle of the night. Now, picture yourself waking up in a sweat-caked drench, and screaming for no apparent reason. Picture yourself becoming angry with the feeling of being afraid, yet being so afraid that you are convinced you must do something to reassure yourself.

You are me.

I had trained myself as a child to know what was happening when I was asleep. When my mother was off in a different region of our home, snoozing off mindlessly with no care as to what might be going on around her, I knew what was happening. Every tick, every creak, every step… I knew. This sleep-awareness both developed into a mixture of a blessing and a curse. For example, when I had been enduring my training as a young adult, I had been roomed with a particular fellow who was fond of stealing his companion's things when they slept. That ended rather ugly. However, my voluntary sleep-sense has also made things particularly difficult for me to sleep through, which more often than less is overly annoying.

Tonight was an example of annoying.

My ear twitched. My nose flared. My booted feet slipped from the modules before me and fell to the ground with a loud smack against the vessel's silver floor. My eyes automatically shot open and my hands were at both of my hips, ready to withdraw two twin blasters.

"Good." A voice from the hallway purred.

My chest was heaving in heavy breaths from the dream I had just been awoken from. My eyes glanced towards the area from which the shaky voice emerged, and I stared in her general direction with contented silence. I thought – hoped, more so – that if I was quiet and pretended not to notice, perhaps she would just disappear. However, as with most things I wished to go in my favor, this was not the case.

Light footfalls echoed into the circular control room where I sat in the pilot's seat, perfectly alone. As I watched, tensing greatly with the anticipation of who I surely was about to see, my patience began to nod in and out with what I had calculated to be her way of growing anticipation within me. Eventually she appeared, hovering just beyond the entrance into the dark hallway, staring at me from behind her hooded hide-out with what disguised itself as a grin on her lips. A very weak, gray, wise-swept grin.

When it became apparent to me that I could no longer deny myself the pleasure of responding, I swiveled my body eagerly toward her and pursed my lips outward. "Is there something you need?"

"I had only come to be certain that you had not fallen asleep on the job," she said slowly, her smile then dropping as she took a steady step forward, "Which you had."

I tried to morph my face into what I felt was an appropriate 'offended' look, which obviously failed. She stared at me stiffly, obviously annoyed.

Here is where I will enlighten you of the short absence of my tale;

After the Jedi had had her episode, and we had determined that she actually needed my assistance in getting off of Peragus, we had somehow miraculously made our way to the Ebon Hawk without anybody 'passing out' again. Upon viewing the vessel I had had a momentary relapse of fear that I might not be able to commandeer a ship so large; yet, to no one's apparent surprise, I was brilliant enough to figure it out. Somewhere along the way the old bat had regrouped with us, missing a vital limb. And somehow, to my dismay, we had adopted a small work-droid that was (unapparent to me) crucial to our departure. I had learned that the old Jedi's name was Kreia, yet I was still under the impression that the little Jedi-twit lacked a parent-given name – as such, I continued to refer to her as 'woman'.

Oh, yes. And we single-handedly exploded the Peragus mining facility. But, that was the least of our worries, apparently.

So here I was, on a ship with two Jedi and a droid; the three solid things to which I relied no trust on whatsoever. With that being held tight within your mind, you must now know that I was completely and utterly vulnerable to fly the ship wherever I pleased. You must now know that, because of the way the Ebon Hawk is structured and the fact that every ship route is coursed a certain way, I had no other options (at this point) than to fly to Telos. I was not thrilled about this, especially because the trade on Jedi is not exactly 'happening' in that region of the galaxy… however, I remained optimistic. I would get my bounty, they would be off of my chest, I would redeem the Ebon Hawk as my own, and life would be good.

Oh, and the droid would be sold for scrap metal. Perfect plan.

All I had to do was play along as their 'puppet' until we landed on a planet that was of my familiar turf – somewhere that I would have the immediate upper-hand on them, and then the games would begin.

Now, to deal with the witch.

Biting down upon my lower lip, I stretched my stiff legs outward and stifled a yawn (my body was still apparently un-grateful from the three day 'cram session' within the Force cage). There were two ways for me to approach this; I could be difficult, or I could attempt to make 'nice' with the old woman.

I was never very popular for my kindness.

"The course has been plotted, the ship is on autopilot. If I want to sleep, I will sleep." I spat, leaning back in the pilot chair and wrapping my hands lazily behind my head.

For a split-second I thought she might leave me alone, on that note. But, of course she didn't. Instead, she rolled her right hand over the absence of where a left hand should be; the sight of it made me feel momentary sympathy for her – but, she wasn't exactly whining about it, so I could only muster up about an ounce of pity.

"We were just attacked by a Sith Lord. You have no right to sleep." She stepped closer to emphasize her obvious anger with me, and I took that opportunity to dart my eyes up beneath her hood to easily view her face. She really was an old witch. Her skin was wrinkled and caked with age, colored gray with lighter white splotches along the regions of her chin. She might have one day been something nice to look at – though, now, I just wondered what was keeping this woman together.

Averting my eyes onto something less painful to look at (the floor) I exhaled with dismay and shook my head back and forth. "My right _is_ my right to sleep." I grinned after this statement, feeling pretty damn pleased with myself. Part of me hoped that she couldn't see my painted expression of pleasure.

"Your stubborn resilience in serious situations is going to prove extremely annoying and un-beneficial." Her voice was cold and un-amused.

At this point I was ninety-five percent positive that she had no other emotion aside from 'stoic' and 'grumpy' – though, five percent was still up for stipulation and consideration.

"Look lady - stranger things have happened to me, other than being attacked by a Sith Lord." _Like traveling with two Jedi…_ I trailed my last thought inaudible, assuming that she wouldn't take to it with a light-hearted smile and a cheery chuckle.

"I do not know what foolish acts you have planned against us, but be of sound mind when I tell you that I have a greater plan for you than anything your unskilled mind can imagine."

Choking on my own spit, I made a slightly taken-aback glance up at her, peering past a few strands of dark hair that shimmied down my forehead. I didn't know what to make of that. I wasn't sure if I should take to it as a threat, be paranoid that she had somehow slipped into my thoughts and seen my plans, or be offended that she had called my mind 'unskilled' – whatever that meant. Swatting at the strands of hair that still hung before my face, I mumbled the only words that managed to be in a reachable region of my voice, "Stop speaking in riddles!"

The words burned as they erupted from my mouth and an instant replay of my dream flashed before me in an uncontrollable reaction.

"Even though she is an Exile, the Sith will be tracking her with thoughts that she is a Jedi Knight. I will protect her, and you _will_ assist me." Kreia paused in her stupor, yet I could tell she still had more to say, so I simply sat and melted in my frozen shock. "And if you try anything funny, fool, I will be forced to use my knowledge of your past against you."

I stumbled over two parts in this not-so-glorified speech; the part where this old witch was claiming me as a slave, and the part where the witch claimed to have knowledge of my past. How could she possibly know anything about my past? Sure, she had freely spoken to me through my mind, but did that mean she had peered into my deepest thoughts and stolen a look at my past? Perhaps my attempts in collecting this bounty were going to get me into heaps of trouble that I had not fully anticipated...

And yet, as much as I knew this foreboding feeling should turn me off, it also ignited a new fire of excitement deep within me. I _always_ welcomed a challenge.

"How's your arm?" I gestured at the absence of flesh in an attempt to emphasize my non-existent concern, and attempt to get her to leave.

Perhaps she could taste my insincerity; hence why she simply looked at me, scowled, and turned away with a looming growl. "We are arriving at Telos. Do not mention this conversation to her."

I swallowed hard at a lump that had formed within my throat over the short course of our conversation. It didn't go away.

* * *

We were walking down the ramp, exiting the Ebon Hawk in a hurry that I found quite unnecessary. The blinding lights of the docking station blared down around us, and I squinted back the glassy-tears that burned into my eyes as soon as the harsh Telos air stroked against them. I had never been particularly fond of this planet – though it was rare that I was fond of any. Those who lived on Telos had a record in my mind of being stuck-up and busy. All that mattered to them was work and keeping their planet tidy being as it was one of the more popular destinations in the galaxy. Everything that mattered as far as heavy cargo or important shipping at some point came in or out of Telos. In short; though it was being recovered from a previous fodder-storm brought on by the Sith, it was a planet that did rather well for itself in its restoration process.

But, as you will learn, I have little sympathy for anything that was destroyed by any of the wars, and as such find nothing impressive about Telos (or its cannok herds).

As we walked onto the platform of the Citadel, the space station for the Telos Restoration Project, a woman's voice screeched over the loud-system in a very crucial-stating manner. "Attention – this is Citadel Station Bay Control, Dock Module 126. Please remain where you are. Lieutenant Dol Grenn will arrive shortly to meet you. That is all."

After picking apart every word the woman spoke, I quickly tripped around the small droid unit as it jittered in front of me, rather clumsily in my urgency. Reaching forward in a stumbled motion, I latched onto the Jedi's arm just above her elbow, shocked by the warmth of her skin. Turning quickly around in annoyance, rocking back on her heels, the woman stared up at me with her un-colored eyes and attempted to jerk her arm from my grasp. Failed attempt, really.

"What?" She didn't have to audit her question, it was obvious from her expression.

"If they think we caused the explosion…"

I dropped her arm from my tight grip as a group of four men walked slowly towards us. It was apparent which one was in charge; he was the one in front, not carrying a weapon, wearing the most hideous yellow and black jacket I had ever had the misfortune of laying my eyes on. He was an older man with creases across his forehead from over-used expressions. He had a funny scar that reached from the bottom of his nose to the top of his lip – though I assumed that was hardly a battle wound, and probably more likely a drunken bar fight. This man really didn't look all that impressive.

Leaning quickly in, I whispered into the Jedi's ear what I hoped she would actually take heed of – since she never took note of anything I said as fair advice. "They may not know what happened. _Don't blow it_."

"I'm Lieutenant Grenn, Telos Security Force." The man in the front said sternly as he placed himself at a ten-foot distance before us. The three men surrounding him wore funny-looking helmets that definitely distracted from their obscure weaponry. I absentmindedly calculated how fast I could reach my blasters and take all three of them out, if it came down to it… but the Lieutenant's voice broke into my train of calculating thought. "I'm under orders to take you into custody in regards to the destruction of the Peragus Mining Facility."

The Jedi glanced at me from the corner of her eye as I shifted uncomfortably. Her gesture made me even more uncomfortable. I wished she would look away…

"We didn't have anything to do with that." She said curtly, though at this point I knew her well enough to decipher between sincerity and blatant sarcasm.

The man grinned and nodded in a 'knowing' way, as if he had anticipated that reply before getting out of his bed this morning. "You haven't been charged with anything – however you will be held in the TSF station until living quarters can be arranged, at which point you will be placed under house arrest. Just until we complete our investigation."

The Jedi's little body tensed up with un-friendly intensions, and her jaw flexed with glutton. I found it to be highly amusing the way she treated her life and the people around her as if they were all tools at her disposal. She almost reminded me of a female version of myself. Though I do like to think I'd be slightly more attractive...

"That is complete and utter fo-"

"Alna!" Kreia hissed, cutting the Jedi off soundly and quickly.

It took me a moment to realize what the old witch was exclaiming – then it hit me. Alna. That was her name; and I immediately understood why she would want to hide that from the galaxy. Her attitude in general was not fitting for the name 'Alna'. I had anticipated something along the lines of 'Veera' or 'Nastia' or even 'Kim'… but 'Alna'? Stifling a laugh, I raised my dark eyebrows in amusement as the Jedi recoiled her anger and bit down on her tongue.

"Do you understand?" The Lieutenant prodded Alna, motioning for one of his guards to step forward.

The short woman inhaled heavily and caved her head forward (Kreia's eyes boring into the back of her neck) and she released the tight hold her upper line of teeth had on her tongue. "I do. I'll cooperate."

"Excellent!" The Lieutenant gleamed, now motioning for the other two guards to follow suit. "We will be confiscating your weaponry, also."

My hands twitched. I was not fond of giving up my blasters to the likes of this man – no more than I was thrilled about returning to a Force cage. I almost wished my small companion would pipe up again in retort, but Kreia seemed to have a strong hold on her now; a hold that I couldn't exactly understand. Nothing seemed to ever quiet down that woman – and yet the old witch had something on her that I simply lacked. I was convinced it was some kind of witchy voodoo ritual.

As we stripped ourselves of all valuable weaponry I found myself lacking any true motivation to fight against it. At this point, even if I managed to break away from them, I had no other choice but to endure all of the punishment that came along with accompanying these Jedi. Including the Force cage. _A__gain_.

However I kept reminding myself; in the end, it would all pay off…

Assuming the old witch didn't _really_ have something to hold against me.


	8. Relief

**Relief**

I had never seen someone kill so effortlessly in my life.

I was never particularly fond of bounty hunters and if there was one thing that my ego was never in need of it would have to be competition. Bounty hunters, as a category, seem to always threaten my ego-throne in every way, shape, and form. For one, they are always cocky, and there is only room for one cocky man in any one facility at any given time. They are always trying to prove a point by playing the "my blaster is bigger than your blaster" game, when (frankly) my blaster is always the bigger blaster. They also have an uncanny knack of showing up in the most unfortunate of times and getting their noses caught up in situations that they do _not_ belong in. I had come across many bounty hunters in my past line of work and there is a particular type of attitude I had learned that must be attained to be a good bounty hunter. Certainly under very different life-circumstances _I_ would have the potential to be one of the best bounty hunters the galaxy could ever have seen. In this moment, however, I couldn't have been more pleased to _not_ be a bounty hunter.

And, yes, I am aware of the fact that I was traveling with these Jedi with the intentions of turning them in for a bounty. But make no mistake, I am no bounty hunter.

A very particular bounty hunter in this very particular moment was one of the worst bounty hunters I had ever met, brief as the encounter was. In one moment he had been a very determined bounty hunter, waltzing into the room with an air of over-confident assurance, plotting to take and turn in _my_ bounty. In the next moment, there was a very dead bounty hunter lying at my feet, blood dripping smoothly from the corner of his pale lips as his neck sat in a very unnatural, twisted manner. Unfortunately for him, _my_ bounty was apparently very skilled without weapons… and I had to admit, _my_ bounty was definitely impressive when it came to killing. Sure, I had watched her kill a droid or two back on Peragus – but this was certainly the first time I had seen her really let loose on something worthy of a good fight.

And I had to admit it was a shocking sight, to say the least.

I had once thought Jedi to be kind and merciful. I had once even gone as far as to believe that all Jedi were incapable of being cruel and were constantly looming around the category of "too good to wear the mask of murder". I believed that every time a Jedi killed anything – enemies, animals, bugs – it was either for _the good of the galaxy_ or in pure self-defense, and I was certain that they almost always risked everything for the slightest chance to turn anything dark and evil to the light side.

And yet, here I had watched this little Jedi walk briskly from the opened force cage and kill a man, in the blink of an eye, with the slightest of efforts. One moment it had seemed that the three of us – myself, Alna, and Kreia – all had the lower hand in this game of chance. The bounty hunter had entered with a goal and we were simply trapped in force cages at the sudden mercy of two buttons; the button for release, or the button for slow, painful death. To my personal amazement (and relief), he had released us, which turned out to be the last and ironically the worst decision he probably ever made. Alna and myself had both immediately sprung into instinctual action, no doubt due to our similar training in the Mandalorian wars. Without muttering a word to each other I had jumped behind the bounty hunters back and grabbed a hold of his arms as to protect the two Jedi from his blaster. In my mind, we weren't going to kill him. In my mind I had it all playing out perfectly; we would subdue him, hold him until the TSF could come in and deal with the situation in whatever way they felt fitting, we would be released on account of 'good deeds', we would be praised for our innocence and helpfulness in capturing a criminal, we would then get on the ship, go to Nar Shadaa, and I would collect my bounty on the two Jedi's heads. This plan was gold. This plan was solid.

However, to my shock and amazement, by the time I had twisted my way around the man's back and seized his arms tightly behind his spine, he was already dead. Dead. Without as much as a finger laid upon him - dead. I glanced up in confusion as his body crumbled to the floor and I managed to catch the look in the little Jedi's eyes…

_This,_ I had not been prepared for. _This_, of all things, was the last thing I suspected to be doing. We had just murdered someone in the prisoner room of the TSF station. Sure, it was self-defense, and sure, he had openly admitted that he was a bounty hunter disguised as a TSF officer, but the people on this planet were _morons_. If this bounty hunter had already successfully convinced someone that he was a legitimate officer, then we were surely going to be imprisoned for this one. Plus, anyone that could kill a man with their bare hands would _certainly_ look like a perfect candidate for the destruction of the Peragus Mining Facility. We were in a classic no-win situation.

Kreia, who had hardly budged since the force fields had been lifted, stared blankly down at the motionless body before slowly craning her neck upward to stare at the young Jedi. Alna was still stoically standing over her victim's lifeless form. I could not tell if the old witch was shocked, like me, or if she was disapproving.

Sucking air in between my teeth, puffing out my chest as the pool of blood around the dead man's face grew larger and larger with each passing second, I took a step away from the body as to not get my shoes into a sticky mess. Folding my arms before my chest I followed Kreia's lead in staring at the little Jedi with what I had deducted to be disapproval. Finally finding my voice and digging my heels into the ground as the ever-familiar and overwhelming feeling that I was in _way_ over my head began to take hold, I steadily asked the question that was clawing its way aggressively up my throat. "_Who_ are you?"

Colorless eyes glared up into my soul and I cringed as the little Jedi shrugged her shoulders slowly upward and replied, simply, "Alna Skyvold."

Opening my mouth, about to explain to her that a simple last name did not even _begin_ to explain the half of what I wanted to know about her, I was instantly cut off when the doors to the prison room whizzed open and Lieutenant Grenn walked in, taking in our scene in one swift sweep.

* * *

"What do you mean 'gone'?"

I could hear Alna's composure waning from within the room as she tried to make sense of what the droid was telling her. In all honesty, we all knew exactly what 'gone' meant. It meant that the Ebon Hawk had somehow been stolen from this massive establishment, probably doomed to never be returned and jettisoned off into far-off, unknown reaches of the galaxy that the three of us would never reach. I was still standing firmly by my theory that the T3 unit had commandeered our ship and was now joy-riding through the outer-rim with a few of his garbage-compactor friends, laughing at us. Laughing at me.

These past few days were progressively going from bad, to worse, and I was beginning to believe that if I were to die by the end of the week it would be a vast improvement.

Staring down at the palms of my gloves, bending my fingers forward and backward, I could imagine all of my dreams and wishes literally slipping through the spaces of my hands. The hallway I now resided in seemed as good of a place as any to accept that I had hit rock bottom; stranded on an absolute awful planet, accompanied by two Jedi who had gone from my idea of bounties to heavy heaps of responsibility. If I wanted to be responsible for someone other than myself, I would have had children – and I was pretty damn certain that I wouldn't have to worry about children snapping my neck with the Force. A concurrent chill tickled my spine as I recollected the prior day's events once again.

A sigh of breath escaped my lips as I dropped my hands to my side. I really was in over my head. Looking back upon our first meeting, I had felt the power that the little Jedi was capable of when we were alone in the small prisoner's quarters of the Peragus Mining Facility. I had felt the woman's connection to the Force on that day and, though it was obviously strong enough to emit a Jedi vibe, it was much weaker than any Jedi I had ever felt before. Now, however, Alna was far more powerful than I had previously calculated – and I had a suspicion her connection to the Force was increased tenfold by the company of Kreia. So, with that in mind, I really had two options; give up on my bounty here and now, or somehow separate Alna from Kreia.

I never was one to give up on something I really wanted. I _really_ wanted that bounty.

"It seems the Ebon Hawk was transferred to Telos' surface instead of an impound dock." The little Jedi spoke to the side of my face as she emerged from the room where she had been arguing with the station droid in charge of the ships. I could feel the annoyance dripping from her voice. "However, both the requester and the point of delivery are unknown."

Crossing one leg over the other, I collapsed my back against the wall of the hallway and stared at the short woman with amusement. That didn't seem so bad. "Telos' surface? Well, then what are we waiting for? Let's go get it."

"That's the plan." Alna said slowly, indicating that that had already crossed her mind long before it had crossed mine. "We just need to find a shuttle. Oh, and…" she paused to hand me my blaster that I had acquired from the dead man's hip back on Peragus.

It felt strange to me, taking the weapon from this clueless woman. She had no idea what I had in store for her and she was obviously naïve enough to give me back the weapon that I would no-doubt be subduing her with at some point in the near future. Grinning, slowly, I reached forward and lifted the blaster from her hand.

Kreia was quick on the little Jedi's heels, looking un-emotional as usual, glaring at me from beneath the cover of her hood. "I would suggest you accept the return of your weapon as a sign of our trust," she took a step forward for emphasis and I could suddenly smell the rancid age in her breath, "it will do you a great justice to keep that trust."

I knew a threat when I heard one.

Spinning the blaster on the tip of my finger, I chuckled lightly and bowed my head forward. "You can count on me."

Kreia didn't look convinced or amused, but Alna shrugged the miniscule conversation aside as she delicately touched the hilt of her vibrosword. The way she touched it seemed to remind her of something, like a distant movie playing before her eyes that I suddenly wished I could also be a part of viewing. It was almost like she missed the 'good old days', when she could kill freely in the war. I knew that feeling.

Suddenly the Jedi's hand fell limp to her side, fingers slipping away from the hilt, and she squared her shoulders back. "Ok, let's find a shuttle and get to the Ebon Hawk before the sun goes does."

Kreia held up what remaining hand she still possessed and shook her head forcefully back and forth. "Tonight is not the night for action. We must rest."

I caught the laugh belting up my throat and stifled it with a throat-clearing cough. "Uh – no offence – but we must _not_ rest." A thought then drifted into my mind full of opportunity and I caught it within my butterfly-net of genius. "If you're tired, Alna and I could go find the ship and then come back for you."

"It is too dangerous for you to journey without me, fool." Kreia spat, squashing my idea into the ground mere seconds after I had created it. She then turned to Alna and, with a much gentler texture, motioned in the direction of the room we were no longer being held 'hostage' in but were currently freely occupying. "We must meditate and rest."

If I was anyone else in the galaxy I might have just dropped my failed attempts and accepted defeat for the night . But I am me.

As the old witch started down the hallway, heading towards the room, I managed to catch Alna's colorless eyes in the path of my own and gave her a sideways grin. This was my chance to change the game. "I am going to go grab a drink. Care to join?" If she was the woman I was beginning to assume she was, then she would grab ahold of my bait and reel herself alongside me. "Unless you would rather go meditate with the walking corpse…" I pointed at Kreia's back and shook my with a sarcastic empathy, "I would truly hate to drag you away from a good time."

Alna's legs wobbled uneasily beneath her for a moment as the obvious internal battle of 'what she should do' began to take hold. She glanced after Kreia, who was making great distance from us in an impressive amount of time for her advanced age, then back at me. I could see the wheels turning. I could feel her inward build-up of stress forming in the pit of her stomach, begging for some kind of relaxing release to be rid of the tension. Nothing a good ol' tarisian ale couldn't fix…

"Alright." She agreed and turned her hips fully towards me.

Hook, line, and sinker!

I was feeling pretty damn good about myself for what had to be a fraction of a second – that is, until Kreia's ancient voice intruded into my private thoughts and eerily ran around my mind with a buzz-kill of a warning.

'_Try anything funny, fool, and I guarantee your life will be short indeed.'_

* * *

Knocking my closed fist against the bar-top, I gestured for two drinks from the bartender as Alna situated herself on the bar stool beside me. This particular cantina was similar to the many Nar Shadaa cantinas I had come fully accustomed to. Honestly, if you have seen one cantina, you really have seen them all; musky, vibrant red and blue lighting, loud music, sloppy dancers, loud drunk folks, and a section in the back for dark, dangerous dealings. The air was almost always thick with smoke and a clinging hint of regret. Oh, and if you were seated at the bar then you were inevitably without-a-shadow-of-a-doubt the center of everyone's discussion. To prove my own point, I glanced quickly around the dark room to be met by every eye in the establishment. Adjacent to their noticing my noticing them noticing us, every single eye snapped back to their own table, quick to mutter to the closest ear about 'what a strange pair' the Jedi and myself were.

Surely most of the aliens and humans in the cantina could tell Alna was a Jedi. It didn't really matter that she was tiny and without a lightsaber or the typical Jedi 'get up'. The Force radiated off of her (now that her and Kreia had 'linked up') nonetheless and the way she carried herself and the air around her was practically screaming 'Jedi'.

When our drinks arrived, I wrapped my gloved hands around the exterior of the cool glass and immediately felt more comfortable and at ease than I had in a long time. Smiling down at the drink, randomly wondering how long it took the Taris beverage to be imported to Telos, I almost missed the scene going on to my right.

Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling at ease. Before I could fully digest what had happened, Alna slammed the now empty glass noisily down to the bar top, licking her upper lip and releasing something that I was pretty certain was a girly belch. In my defense, women didn't exactly belch in front of me – they _usually_ tried a tad bit harder to be polite and, I dare say, sexy.

I suddenly wasn't sure if I should be disgusted or impressed.

"Are you an alcoholic as well as a smooth killer?" I asked, bringing my own ale to my lips and motioning for the bartender to give the lady another drink. Usually, I would be pleased to see a woman so eager to get drunk. This, however, wasn't going to end the way most of my 'bring a woman to the cantina bar' nights usually did. I did not want sex from this little Jedi. I hardly even wanted her company at this point, but it had seemed like a good idea when I had initially plotted it out.

That is, until Kreia had warned me in my mind. This really was going to be more difficult to pull off than I had thought. It wasn't as simple as just convincing Alna to leave Kreia anymore. Kreia didn't seem all that willing to even let that possibility fester.

"No," Alna finally responded, shoving her empty glass forward to replace it with the new full glass the bartender protruded from behind the bar. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of it, as if she wasn't fully prepared for a second drink to arrive so quickly. I could have sworn I saw her teeter slowly forward and grab ahold of the bar for support, but she did everything so smoothly that it could have just been wishful thinking on my part. "It has been a while since I have had a drink."

"Oh? Here I was, thinking you and your crew had drunkenly crashed into the Peragus Mining Facility." My attempt at humor.

Apparently it was a touchy subject, since the little Jedi shifted uncomfortably on her seat and threw me a dagger stare. Jedi or not, I know women. And I knew that I had suddenly opened up a door that I like to fondly refer to as the 'interrogation door'. It's a door that women like to hide behind when they feel like they themselves are being interrogated. It's really quite an annoying thing that they do, much like everything else Alna did. "So, how _exactly_ did you wind up in that force cage on Peragus, Atton?"

At least she had used my name. That was an improvement from 'criminal'. "Why does that matter to you?" I hummed, taking the second sip of my drink.

"You are obviously some kind of criminal. I am just trying to get a feel for those I am surrounding myself with." She replied simply.

"Yeah," I turned myself to face her and wiped the back of my hand along the front of my mouth, "good job choosing the old witch, by the way."

She also turned to face me and we met in the middle, glaring at each other with separate scenarios undoubtedly playing out in our minds. I can't speak much for her, but I was personally picturing the small Jedi's head slamming repeatedly against the bar top until her eyes rolled into the back of her head in defeat. My God, I couldn't even _pretend_ to get along with her!

After a very long silence where we both were undoubtedly picturing a colorful scene of the other's demise, she finally answered very flatly."Kreia is a necessity."

"Fine. Well, can you at least tell me what happened to you back on Peraguse? When you fell down in pain? You clutched your arm as if it were dipped into molten hot lava and then we came to find out Kreia's limb had been lobbed off." Reliving the scenario in my head, I flinched at the thought of cradling her in my arms and actually feeling sorry for her. "It was almost like you two are connected." I already knew the answer to what I wanted to know. I could feel the surreal Force connection between the two of them the first time I met them and still up to this point – yet, explaining to the little Jedi how and why I had this knowledge would be a difficult explanation to recover from.

Alna twitched her nose upward and bit down on her lip. She clearly did not want to admit to me what I already secretly knew.

"Oh come on." I prodded, gesturing toward the tarisian ale in front of her, hoping it would guilt her into telling me. I had bought her two drinks, after all! "You owe me an explanation, woman."

Furrowing her brow the little Jedi pressed the palm of her hand over the pulled-back platinum locks of her head and slowly began to explain. "We have a very strong yet fatal Force bond between us. It's quite simple, really; if she dies, I die. If I die, she dies." She looked up at me to see if I was interested in what she was saying, which I was, then raised her hand up and waved it around before my face for emphasis, "and, if one of us is injured then the other one can physically feel it."

That was the worst news I could have possibly heard at this point. "So, you two can't be separated." So, I can't accidentally blast Kreia in the head? I obviously didn't audit the second part, but it was definitely the more important question that had arose.

"For now." It seemed as if there was a hint of hope dancing about in the way that she said that. Ah – so the little Jedi didn't like her cryptic tag-along? I couldn't say I blamed her. I was having a hard time finding anything positive about the excess baggage in the form of Kreia myself.

Completely put-out and depressed with the heavy weight of this newly attained knowledge, I chugged my first drink down to the last drop in her shadow and slammed the glass down on the bar top. Alna eyed me carefully, observing my obvious depression, and gave me an inquiring look.

"Look Atton, I know why you brought me to this cantina."

I'm certain the color in my face turned placid as the blood from my head fell into my feet at her words.

"Oh?" Old instincts began to kick in. Fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight… I was weighing the possibilities of escape without a fight.

"Yes. You brought me here to buy me a drink or two and then tell me you're taking off." She said with a shrug, taking a sip of her ale, placing the glass back down onto the bar top and turning it slowly in between the golden skin of her hands. She really was a fidgeter in awkward situations. "But, I would appreciate it if you would help me find the ship. I just need you to help me get it back to the docking bay. I will find a new pilot once the ship is safe and I will even give you credits for your trouble."

I'm ninety-nine percent positive I was holding my breath until the very end of her speech, just waiting for the moment that she would explain my true motivation and then kill me where I sat. When I was certain she was completely finished, I pursed my lips outward and cocked my head to once side, re evaluating her words. Without even thinking about what I was about to get myself into I muttered, "Sounds... fare."

It was all I could say. I was so damn relieved that she was so clueless.


	9. Prices

**Prices**

_Death. Destruction. Pain. Suffering._

_Children were scattered among ruin, crying. People were left for dead in the streets of the largest cities and lost among the trees in the emptiest of forests. Jedi's were broken down to the crouch in their knees, not begging for mercy, but desperately hoping for a release from the devouring darkness._

_All of these things flashed before his hazel eyes in less than a millisecond. In the midst of this slow-building and horribly painted reality he was suddenly awoken and very aware. Aware of what he was doing. Aware of what he had done. Everything and everyone around him was drowning in death, destruction, pain, and suffering. Wherever he arrived, these four traits were hanging down from his neck like prized medallions, and when he finally left wherever he had been, these four traits would be left behind to take hold of everyone else's fate. _

_For the first time, he saw life._

_And for the first time, he cared._

_The Jedi's foot twitched and the man's glazed-over eyes snapped back to a present reality. He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting on the ground, still as the night, mulling over everything that had just been revealed to him. He wasn't even confident in what day of the week it was, at this point._

"_I see your heart, Jaq."_

_Her voice was chilling. A bead of sweat ran down the man's face as he listened, too destroyed to confront her any longer and too swallowed up in his self-loathing to even move. _

"_You do not belong with the Sith," she continued, "but they will take you if they find out that you are so…" Her voice very quickly faded and trailed out into a painful whisper, much too low for the man to hear. _

_Glancing over at her, concern suddenly welling, the man dropped his hands to the ground in front of his knees and crawled closer to where she lay beyond the Force cage barrier. The movement of his legs dragging against the dirt-covered floor stirred up puffs of dust behind him, weighing down the air in the already dense room. When he was close enough to hear the Jedi speak, but far enough away from the Force cage walls to not get burnt, he began to visually digest the horrible things he had done to her._

_The delicate skin on her face was covered in splotches of blood. The rings beneath her eyes were heavy and haunting. The patches of ruined hair on the top of her head were soaking in sweat and more blood. Her arms were too battered to be lifted and her legs were folded around her so distorted that he wasn't even sure she could stand if she tried. But, despite all of the obvious visual tragedies that he could take in, he could feel that her deepest intensions – despite what he done to torture her – were still beautiful. _

_She was still beautiful._

"_Why have you done this to me?" He asked her slowly, pointing to his head and jabbing a finger into the flesh at his skull. He desperately wished every image in his mind could be washed away as quickly as they had formed, but he was unfortunately aware that he could never un-know what he now knew. He would never be rid of those images, he would never shake these feelings, and he could never hide from the horrible things he had done._

"_B-because," the Jedi answered weakly, her voice beginning to fade in and out, "you are b-better than this. Y-you deserve e-everything that the Light side has to o-offer. You deserve to be s-saved."_

_The spark of life was drifting from her body before his eyes. She no longer wanted to hold on. She had done what she had wanted to do all along. She had fulfilled her last living goal. She had given him the gift of knowing what he was…_

_And, in response, he killed her._

* * *

She was in my head. She was in my thoughts. I could feel her poking around in my most private of dreams before my eyes even had the chance to fall open.

Grasping for air as if I had been swimming at length, I stumbled to my feet and shot the old woman a glare full of daggers which she met with wide, all-knowing eyes. She had invaded my personal thoughts _again_ and had stolen memories that were mine to keep secret for the rest of my life, if I so wished. The horrible 'violated' feeling that I had felt back in the Ebon Hawk's control room was lurching forward again and I was starting to get the hint that Kreia was going to be evoking that un-wanted feeling a lot. If we weren't both protected (or trapped, whichever way you want to look at it) by our cell's walls, then I certainly would have been retorting in a much more effective way. This glare, however, was all I had.

It was eerily silent in the prison room of the secret Jedi academy. We had been held here for what seemed to be a few hours, at least, waiting for Alna to return from her confrontation with the Jedi who apparently ran this establishment. Unfortunately for me, we had once again been apprehended and forced to stand around in Force cages… and, of course, I had made the mistake of trying to fight against it, which lead (as usual) to me being thrown into a Force cage. Luckily for me, I wasn't the only one. Kreia and Bao-Dur were also in cells; however they were fortunate enough to not be knocked out beforehand. All I could remember up until this point was dropping down into a ready battle-position and hearing someone say very loudly to my right, "he has dropped into an Echani stance!" then I was violently shocked unconscious by _something_.

"You surprise me – I could not feel it before…" Kreia finally said with a smile. I hadn't seen the old bag's creepy smile before this moment, but I immediately decided upon our meeting (her smile, and I) that I never wanted to see it again. Ever. "Your feelings are a powerful shield, indeed. However, even you cannot separate your past from your dreams and thus I now know your deepest secret."

I wanted to say something – anything. I wanted to spell out how wrong she was for sneaking into my unconscious mind and peeking in on my personal business. I wanted to tell her to go pound sand on Tatooine for a while and then bury herself a nice tomb in the desert. I wanted to tell her to go drown in the ocean of Manaan and get herself eaten by a firaxa (though, I do hate to wish such an ill, sour meal on the poor un-deserving firaxa). But, I couldn't find any words that seemed fitting to spew. I couldn't wrap my mind around the best (or worst) thing to say to her… really, all I could do at this point was congratulate her on successfully becoming my least favorite person in the galaxy.

As if she could hear my internal struggle and my resistance to give her the satisfaction of a response, she continued. "Before, I only knew who you were. Now I know _what_ you are; a _murderer_, yet an asset." My jaw did a series of pushups here, but still no sound emerged from my throat. "Do not worry, 'Atton'. If she is Jedi, she will forgive. And if she is not, she will not care."

The way she spoke the word 'murderer' began to vibrate like bad cantina music within my ears. I knew what I was and I knew what I had done, but this was the first time in a long time that someone had actually come to the same conclusion as me. I began to panic as the word grew heavier and heavier as if it were sinking into my very being and becoming not just part of who I was but all of who I am. I had worked very hard to keep that word from ever surfacing on the lips of someone else when they were referring to me. I had done unthinkable things to erase my past and to start a new life. I had done everything in my power to earn the respect and – dare I admit to it – the _trust_ of those around me. And where would I be without people trusting me? Where would I be without Alna's trust – though it was a weak trust, at best?

I glanced towards the door of the third prison room that I had managed to stumble myself into in the past week. I stared at the motionless door in anticipation, just waiting for someone to walk through and listen in on our conversation. I then glanced to the Force cage that sat past Kreia's, the one where Bao-Dur lay motionless and unconscious on the floor. I finally glanced up towards a security camera that lay still facing towards us, hoping that there wasn't an audience listening in on our little exchange.

I was eventually confident no one was listening. At least, no one worth worrying about…

"You can't tell her!" Finally, I could speak. Though in hindsight I couldn't tell you why I so desperately pleaded with this witch. "Please. I'm asking you. I don't want her to … "

"Think less of you?" She chuckled. It almost hurt to see her so amused by this 'far-fetched' assumption. "I hardly think that's possible." Ouch. Again. "Still, there is no shame in what you ask. We all wage war with the past and it leaves its scars. I will not speak of yours, Atton, but there is a price for such things."

Another price? I kicked the heel of my boot to the ground and pointed a bony finger in her direction, simply _daring_ her to try and lock me further down under her not-so-literal prison. "Hey, now - I thought you already claimed me as a slave!"

I didn't like where this was going. I could feel the tables turning even further than they had before and I could see my grip of the situation falling completely out of my hands and into the merciless (and wrinkled) hands of this old woman.

"There are those who wage war, and those who follow them. You are a crude thing, _murderer_, but you have your uses." Every time she said 'murderer' it was a punch to the gut. "You know how important this woman we travel with is – even one such as you can feel it. You will serve her… until I release you."

Oh, great. So now I was not only aiding Kreia in 'protecting' Alna, but I was also promoted to Alna's companion, to boot? Sure, I could feel how strong Alna was with the Force (with the aid of Kreia). And yes, I had my assumptions that she may have been more than just a typical Jedi – or, more accurately, Exile. However, I was not about to have my world flipped so vastly about that I would go from initially collecting a bounty on the head of two Jedi to becoming a 'companion' of two Jedi. "And if I refuse?" I challenged. All I wanted now was to get out – to get away. I had made another one of my bad decisions, charming as that trait of mine was proving to be, and I could openly admit to it. Now, however, it was time to leave these two Jedi to whatever galactic troubles they wanted to embark on.

After all, what did I have to lose? They would abandon me here at the secret Jedi academy full of sexy handmaidens? _Darn_.

"You will not." She replied, without skipping a beat. "And if you disobey me, my punishment will make you beg for the death that has long hounded you."

Kreia clearly wasn't one for the subtle approach. I absentmindedly wiggled three of my fingers at my side, shifting my weight from one foot to the other; keeping a mental tally on how many times the old woman was going to threaten me.

"And even _now_ your spirit -" she immediately switched from threatening to pleasant and waved her one remaining hand in the air in front of her for emphasis "- as _diseased_ as it is, refuses to allow you to give up, no matter what threats you face. I feel you have crossed our path for a reason… perhaps even you, at the right moment, may be able to turn aside disaster. If so, your potential is not yet spent."

My potential to them was non-existent, of that I was certain. I tried one last time, "look, you old scow, you have the _wrong_ man."

She smiled, again. I hated it even more the second time. "Perhaps. But someone has to fly the ship." She then moved her eyes from me to the floor and bowed her head forward so that I could just see the bottom of her ancient chin through the veil. "Our path is here for a reason… and now I know why. The past is here and it must be met before the future can be set in motion."

I didn't like the way that sounded, little of it as I could make out. And to think - I was going to have to listen to this rambling crap until the old witch decided to 'release' me? Great. Rolling my shoulders back, intertwining my fingers and stretching my hands out in front of me, I glanced back towards the motionless door and sighed. "Care to explain what you're mumbling about, witch?"

"No – I have wasted enough time with you. Sleep, _murderer_ – and be silent. "

And, before I knew it, my face collided with the floor.

* * *

The Ebon Hawk looked as spotless as ever and seemed to be in as good of condition as it had been _before_ it was stolen. I had flipped through a few screens on the main panel in the control room, checked the motion of a few critical levers, and made sure the cushions of the captain's seat were still pristine and comfy.

At this point, I was just doing busy work until someone told me where I was flying this heap of metal to next. After sitting comfortably in the captain's seat for a few minutes, I found myself walking aimlessly towards the lower control deck to check on the more 'nitty-gritty' area of the ship. You know, the area where – if things go greatly array – your ship blows up.

I hadn't seen Alna since she released us from the prison room, and had made it rather clear that she wanted the three of us to head to the ship and wait for her there until further notice. As much as I usually hated being out of the loop, I found it quite easy to not mind being clueless in this situation – after all, I didn't even want to be in this situation. This situation, of all situations, was the last one that I ever wanted to find myself in after what I had been through. Being around Jedi was uncomfortable enough as it was, _without_ being dragged to an actual Jedi academy.

In all actuality, this was a poor excuse of a Jedi academy being as there was only one Jedi in the whole facility. Though, be that as it may, the whole academy still brought back memories that I usually went to great lengths to avoid recollecting.

As my mind wandered, and my feet did the same, I bounced back to reality to find myself standing in the presence of Bao-Dur, silently watching him as he checked the ship for any damages. He was an interesting mechanic, to say the very least. He apparently was a part of the Mandalorian Wars and had served under Alna, somehow making it annoyingly necessary (to him) for him to constantly refer to her as 'General'. As far as Iridonian's are concerned, he was pretty calm and level-headed – well, not _physically_ 'level headed' since he did have about six pointy objects eroding from his skull.

"Ah, hello there, Atton." Bao-Dur said pleasantly when he finally noticed my arrival.

"Mmhm." I mumbled in return. I didn't really like how he was plinking around in the ship. I didn't really like how he was traveling along with us now, either. And I really didn't particularly like how I was suddenly being forced to hang around with people and aliens that I usually wouldn't dream of burdening myself with...

"Everything looking alright down here?" The little Jedi's calm, cool, and collected voice came echoing from the hallway, followed by a storm of footfalls that eventually lead to her steady approach.

"General!" Bao-Dur said excitedly, beaming at her as she entered into the room. "Yes, this ship is perfection. We should be fit for takeoff whenever you're ready." I'm pretty sure I rolled my eyes, but I was luckily facing the opposite direction.

Turning around to face her, I was shocked to see that she had yet again changed into a different set of clothing. This time, to my most unfortunate disappointment, she had managed to find an old Jedi robe which was fitting for the occasion but un-flattering to her perfect figure. Her platinum-blonde hair was down from that cheek-bone clenching tail for a change, though – and that was actually rather nice to see. "How did things go with the Jedi here? Are you all done?"

"Not exactly," She said, cautiously staring at my face, pressing her lips into a hard line. "I've agreed to help her."

I sucked in a cool wisp of air through gritted teeth. "Well, that's unfortunate."

As if a switch had been flicked, the air in the tiny control room changed from casual banter to sour confrontation. Bao-Dur seemed to notice the change of atmosphere and saw himself swiftly out of the room, pausing momentarily to stare at a long yellow wire protruding from the ceiling that he apparently was suspicious of.

Alna moved her jaw around, back and forth, and twitched her nose upward. She liked to twitch her nose when she was irritated, I was starting to learn. "And you care, _why_?" Then, as if deciding against caring, she cut me off, "I will be switching you out for a better pilot in a few hours, anyhow."

"Whoa- easy, woman!" I said defensively, throwing my arms in front of me in a 'surrendering' kind of way. "I was only _kidding_. And, besides – I've thought about it and I think I should stick around with you until things start going better for you."

I had to bring it up eventually, whether it was the truth or not.

Alna raised an eyebrow so high that I thought it might collide with her hairline. "This is still part of the joke, right?"

I wished. "Not exactly, no."

There was a deeply confused silence.

"I – I don't know," she said, shoving her hands slowly into the pockets of her robe and hugging it slightly tighter to her body. "You did just crash a shuttle and almost kill us."

"We were shot down, damnit!" I immediately retaliated, throwing my arms into the air. That crash-landing onto Telos' surface was _not_ my fault! How many times was I going to have to remind everyone that I actually saved our lives! I was to my point of ultimate heat when I caught the sly grin on her face. "Oh, I see. You have jokes, too."

I was mildly impressed.

Pleased with herself, she rocked back and forth on her feet and shrugged her shoulders up into her neck. "Really, though – I don't know that it's the best idea if you stay. You and I don't exactly get along, Atton."

I swallowed hard. Maybe this was my chance to get out. After all, if Alna didn't want me here, then what ground did Kreia stand on to keep me? I could taste escape at the tip of my tongue!

And yet, there was something about the way the little Jedi was standing there, just as uncomfortable with the situation as I was. And I knew, deep down past those colorless eyes, she was having the same problem as me. She wanted me to leave, to be gone and out of her life forever, and yet…

"I can fake it if you can." I then extended my hand towards her and raised both of my eyebrows, adding in what I felt could be a genuine smile.

What was I thinking? Why was I doing this? This was my chance to leave!

And, just when my mind was beginning to catch up with my mouth, she clasped her small hand around mine and shook it up and down in acceptance.


	10. Connected

**Connected**

They say that when you make a deal with the devil, he always comes to collect. I knew that to be true more than anyone in the galaxy. The problem was, I wasn't sure who the devil was in my current situation – was it me, Alna, or Kreia? It was almost impossible to tell, this early in the game.

I can tell you one thing with absolute certainty, however. Colonel Tobin, a man I was not in any rush to meet, certainly had the upper hand over all three of us at this particular moment, having shot down our ship over Onderon's jungle moon. I shouldn't have been nearly as shocked about the attack as I was, considering that I was traveling with two Jedi who were in absolute desperate search of finding any means of trouble they could gather. However, as intelligent as I usually am, I was dumbfounded by the fact that we were not granted entry onto the planet.

Walking briskly down the ship's ramp, Kriea, Bao-Dur, Alna, and T3 tapping at my heels, I was momentarily distracted by the surroundings of the moon we had almost crash-landed onto. The ground was covered in tall grass and was soft to the touch. The planet itself was humid and sticky, and yet there was a cold breeze that seemed to wrap itself around the light fabric on my body. The calls of wild animals was eerie and heavy in the air, almost as if a subtle reminder that we were most certainly not alone and most definitely not the toughest thing on this planet.

Rounding my way towards the front of the ship, taking a few steps backwards as to digest the full effect, I was pleased to see that the damages were not as vast as I had anticipated. However, that's usually how I operate; expect the worse and you'll most likely _always_ be pleasantly surprised. Still, we wouldn't be leaving anytime soon – at least not on our own ship.

Sighing with half relief, half disappointment, I shoved my gloved fingers into my pant pockets and stared onto the faces of each individual who had followed me outside (except for the droid, of course). "You know, just once, I wish someone was glad to see us." I eventually stated to break the silence. "But no, if it isn't weapons pointed at our heads, it's someone trying to blast us out of the sky."

As if she couldn't tell with her own eyes, Alna cocked her head to the side and asked, "How badly is the ship damaged?"

Humoring her, I replied, "It's taken a little damage, nothing too serious."

Now that we had gotten that out of the way, it was time to begin evaluating more important things. We each began to do full circles in our own little areas, taking in the huge trees, absentmindedly touching the grass that reached up to our hips, and finally settling our eyes on the galactic battle overhead. The same battle we had just been shot out of.

"Where are we?" I finally asked aloud for all of us.

Kreia, of course, always had an answer for what seemed to be the widely unknown. "This is Dxun, where the Mandalorians began their crusade against the Republic... we should be careful." It didn't look like much of a battlefield to me. It looked more like the kind of place you dumped your old people when you no longer wanted to take care of them, and didn't want to leave behind any evidence. You know, old people like Kreia…

"Much is buried here," The old witch continued when she had undoubtedly lost everyone's attention, "And there is much that should remain buried."

Riddles again. Was she ever going to conjure up a sentence that I could actually follow?

Alna crouched down and picked up a large blue rock, twisting it around within her hands before chucking it out into the darkness. "What now?"

I gestured towards the small patch of smoke now emitting from the recently created puncture on the wing of the Hawk. "Until the ship is repaired, we're not going anywhere."

"There may be a means to get to Onderon by another route. The Force has guided us here for a reason." Kreia announced with certainty, and the urge to roll my eyes was at a tenfold. "We should explore our surroundings. There is… something here."

As if triggered by her words, something rumbled, low and fierce, far off in the hidden darkness of the jungle. There was something here, alright. There were _many_ 'something's' here, in fact. My hand rested naturally against the side of my blaster and I rocked backwards onto my heels while staring in the general direction of the noise. There was definitely something out there. Something I did not personally want to gallivant off into the forest after. I wondered what my chances were of being allowed to stay and 'guard' the ship…

"Let's go find another route, then." Alna said positively, turning towards the four of us. "T3, you stay with the ship."

The little droid beeped a few times, then whizzed off back up the ramp with no hesitation.

"Oh, yes, that's a good plan. I feel _really_ good about leaving the droid here with the ship." I said sarcastically, folding my arms over my chest. "Hey – how about I stay behind, too? Y'know, in case the little guy needs some protecting?"

"I will stay with the droid." Bao-dur cut over me. "Perhaps I can begin repairs on the ship while you are gone?" Damnit Bao-Dur! I wanted to mount his head on a wall and use all of the pointy bones that protruded from his head as hangers for my clothes.

"That is an excellent plan." Kreia said coolly, bowing her head in Bao-Dur's direction. She then turned to face me. "Besides, _your_ skills may prove useful in this jungle." Great.

"Ok, come on." The Jedi said sharply over us, grabbing the hilt of her vibrosword and withdrawing the weapon with impatience. She then began to swat at the low-hanging branches and vines of the trees, creating a path through the thick greenery.

I began to trudge after her, mumbling disappointed things to myself, when Kreia hooked my arm with her hand and captured me in the clasps of her ancient breath. "This is where the Mandalorian Wars began. She fought here once, and there are things here she must see."

"_She_ fought here?" I stared curiously after the small woman's back as she began to disappear into the wild trees, her Jedi robe flipped wildly at her heels, catching its corners on the tip of the high blades of grass. "Why didn't she say anything?"

Kreia released her hold on my arm and wrinkled her already wrinkled lips into a scowl. "Do you speak of all of _your_ battles? Or are there some you wish to forget?"

She then left me standing there alone in my own stupor, pained by the knowledge that the old witch already knew the answer to that question.

* * *

If there is one thing that I have taken away from the experiences I have gone through in life, it is that nothing comes without a price. Unfortunately for us, this was becoming a greater challenge than the initial quest we had embarked on. Finding old washed-up Jedi's seemed a simple task when viewing it from the outside. However, no body is ever willing to assist the needs of even the noblest man without reeking some benefits for themselves. And there are some races, species, and people who stand out a bit higher on the 'selfish' scale than the rest.

Mandalorians, in my personal experienced opinion, are at the top of the selfish pile, right next to Bounty Hunters. And to my gitty delight we encountered both in the span of an hour.

It started off as smooth as any blind adventure could. We ran into smaller creatures with big appetites and even larger (though misled, mind you) confidence. We then found ourselves neck-high in grass as we desperately ran to the aid of a crashed ship – which turned out to be the ship of a Bounty Hunter who was (wouldn't you know it?) chasing us. The Bounty Hunter claimed to be a member of a very 'famous' Bounty Hunter family, of which I had never heard of, which meant he was full of it. He then threatened to take Alna captive for the very hefty bounty on her head… that was the part of the stammering that I was actually aware of. In a nutshell, the Bounty Hunter was sloppy, unprepared, and had completely underestimated the power of his bounty – all things that I was never dumb enough to do.

Needless to go into heavy detail over, we killed him dead. And I took his fancy blaster.

Anyhow, we then journeyed further into the jungle and were taken in by a group of Mandalorians who were under the sick illusion that they still mattered in the galaxy. Personally, I find that the Mandalorians are a bunch of adult-sized children who hide behind heavy armor and claim to be fierce and brave and honorable. Would I say that to their faces? No. But I will say it to yours, and you can pass on the message if you'd like.

In conclusion, we now found ourselves at the mercy of pleasing Mandalore, the Mandalorian leader, hoping that if we did enough of his 'tiny necessities' we would prove ourselves worthy enough of a ride on his supposed shuttle to Onderon. A shuttle that, might I add, we had yet to lay eyes on and I personally doubted even existed.

We had, at this point, done quite a few things for the Mandalorians around the inside and outside of the camp and we were currently in search of the final missing converter part – another one of our 'quests', if you will. We had gathered, killed, and conversed with everything imaginable. And, to be honest, I was just about done with all of this bitch work.

Leaning against the body of a large tree, digging the palm of my hand into the soft moss surrounding the bark, I lifted the sole of my left boot up towards the sky and examined the mess. I could feel the water from the puddle I had just stumbled into dripping onto the skin of my foot and I cringed. I could only imagine the kind of disease I was accumulating on my boots at this point in the night. Sighing, I dropped my foot back to the soft ground and pushed away from the tree, wiping my hand aggressively on the fabric of my pants.

"Mandalore." I hissed through my teeth, "That's _so_ original."

"Your complaints are duly noted and highly unnecessary." Kreia said from behind me, finally catching up to us after momentarily stopping to catch her breath.

I watched the old woman gasp for air beneath her hood, her chest caving inward and outward, and a wheezing sound emitted from deep within her chest. I wanted to think she was pathetic, but part of me felt horrible for her. Then I remembered who it was I was looking at. "You look like you're having a great time, too."

Kreia shot me a look. At least, I assume it was a look. I wasn't even sure she could 'look' at anything, actually. "This is not ideal but it is the only choice available to us. Surely even a _fool_ like you can see that we have no other options."

This caused me to glance ahead of me, up towards where Alna was still trudging easily through the grass. I was hoping that she wasn't listening to our little exchange, even though nothing of interest had come up yet. I knew Kreia well enough at this point to recognize that when the 'fool' label began to fly, she was bound to bring up something about my past that I wished to keep covered from certain ears.

Lowering my voice, hoping that even someone of her advanced age could take the hint, I retaliated, "Even a fool like me can see that these idiots are just taking advantage of how naïve you two are!"

"Shh!"

As much as I wanted to protest, I wasn't about to argue with Alna's 'shushing' in dangerous surroundings like this. I noted how the little Jedi immediately crouched to her knees in the grass, clearly hiding from something, and I mimicked her movements. Kreia didn't react much, and I wasn't sure if it was because she was physically incapable of crouching or because she had foolish blind woman courage. Deciding that I didn't care, I moved as quietly as possible up to Alna's back and whispered through the thick blades.

"What's out there?"

"I think that Zakkeg beast is near."

She couldn't have been more correct. Without a skip of a beat, the giant legend beast with skin as tough as a ship came barreling around the corner, crying out to the darkness. It had seen us before we had seen it, but that didn't give it any advantage of stealth. Reacting in the only way I knew, I withdrew my blaster and began shooting the beast. I shot it everywhere; the top of its head, the shoulder's, the back, the side… nothing seemed to even phase the giant creature. In the nick of time, right before it crashed into me, I rolled to the left, covering my clothing in mud, dirt, and leaves. Alna, on the other hand, had opted to simply jump over the giant beast with what I assumed to be some assistance from the Force. She then took off running in the direction of which the beast had come from, stopping at a good distance and turning on her heel with her blade held up in preparation.

Jumping to my feet, I sprinted over to where she stood, amazed that I had made it there before the beast had found time to react. It wasn't until I had also turned around and was prepared for the second attack when I realized that the beast was wobbling back and forth, confused, shaking it's head in attempts to shake off the stun that Kreia had just performed. The Force power hadn't lasted long, but it was long enough for us to recoup. When the beast could once again make out its own head from its ass, it caught sight of the two of us and dug its giant nails into the soft ground with new-found fury. I could feel my heart beating against my ribs as my finger itched at the trigger of my blaster. I had the weapon pointed square between the eyes of the beast as it flared its nostrils and began to charge once again.

In any other situation I would have begun to shoot at it, but Alna's calm energy beside me was telling me to wait. I wasn't sure if it was my many years of experience in feeling the way the Force emanated off of Jedi's, or if I had a momentary connection with Alna that made it possible, but somehow I could feel her battle experience and sense the course of action we were meant to take.

And it all happened so fast.

One moment, the beast was several yards away from us, snorting and snarling in preparation for the fight. The next, it was at an arm's length away. I shot the beast right between the eyes with steady, trained hands. The beast took that moment to glance its head slightly to the left at the slight irritation, revealing the one soft spot on its body – its neck. Alna brought her vibrosword down and around the soft flesh, dropping the Zakkeg instantly.

I stood on uneasy legs, panting. I wasn't exhausted by the fight by any means – I was exhausted by the strange connection she and I seemed to have just shared.

Glancing towards Alna, I was surprised to be met by the same shocked expression on her face.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked slowly.

"I'm not sure." She muttered, but before we could go into heavier evaluation of what had just happened, Kreia was upon us.

"You fought well." She directed towards Alna, motioning towards the dead body of the beast. "Let us retrieve the token and continue on our way."

Neither of us spoke of that moment for the rest of the journey through the jungle.

* * *

In light of recent events, I was not about to bring up what had happened in front of Kreia or anyone on the Mandalorian camp. After we had returned to the camp and informed Mandalore that we had successfully completed everything he had requested of us, he was finally willing to accompany us to Iziz. First, however, he suggested that we tie up our affairs with the Ebon Hawk because we would not be returning any time soon.

At this news, Kreia had decided it would be best to check up on Bao-Dur and the droid, and she insisted that Alna go back. At first I was amazed that the old witch did not want to accompany the little Jedi as she usually did in all other situations, but she seemed to have other business at mind. It was none of my business, as fishy as it appeared to be, and I left it alone due to the fact that I had much bigger issues to sort through.

Waiting impatiently for the small Jedi's return, I waited within the walls of the Mandalorian camp and spent several hours watching different groups of men in giant suits of armor battle it out in a fighting ring. As amusing as it was to watch the morons punch and kick each other repeatedly in the face for no apparent reason, it could only hold my interest for so long. My mind was inevitably going to go back to the night before that was spent in the jungle, and I was going to relive that connection between myself and Alna.

What had happened? How had I just known what she had wanted me to do and been able to perform it perfectly? She hadn't said anything. She certainly hadn't gone into my mind. I just _knew_. It was like I had watched it happen before it had actually happened, and it had been accompanied by the most calming sensation that I had ever felt.

"You still haven't cleaned yourself off?" The Jedi's voice broke over my thoughts.

"Mmmno," I said, distracted. I looked down at my hand and body and was slightly embarrassed at the dried mess that still remained. Pulling my feelings back to more important matters, I looked back to Alna's face and spoke in desperate sincerity. "Can we talk in private?"

Swinging her arms around her short body, glancing at the Mandalorian's surrounding us and attending to their own business, she nodded, "Yes."

She led me to a building full of noisy modules that was surprisingly empty. Once there, I wasted no time in picking up where we had left off in the jungle. "I want to know what happened back there."

Alna looked surprisingly uncomfortable by my assertive tone. "I told you I didn't know."

"What did you feel?" I prodded, mildly frustrated.

"I felt like…" She began, fading out. I knew she felt something. I knew that she knew something. "I felt like nothing."

Raising my eyebrows in shock at her stubbornness, I grabbed gently for her wrist and stared as deeply into her colorless eyes as I could comfortably allow. "Alna."

Shying away from the touch of my hand, she pulled away and placed both of her palms delicately on her hips. "You never let me into your head. You have trained yourself to block me out." She paused to bite down on her lip. "But it felt like you were in mine. Which, is not possible. You have to be Force sensitive for that."

_Of_ _course_. Why had I not thought of that sooner? I was suddenly very sorry I had brought this back up. "You're right. That's absolutely not possible."

Now it was her turn to prod, which she wasted no time in doing. "Why do I get this feeling that you're not telling me something?"

"There are plenty of things that I am not telling you. Just like there are plenty of things you are not telling me. Like the fact that you fought here during the Mandalorian wars?" I wasn't sure if this was wise to point out or not, but I wanted my own answer desperately enough to take a dance with chance.

"That's no secret."

"Then why did you try to hide it?" I pointed out. When she said nothing, I sighed, irritated, and continued on sarcastically. "Look, I am so sorry that I am not Bao-Dur and I do not open up to you like an old friend. I have secrets. You have secrets. And they are secrets for a reason."

She looked like she might stomp her foot. "I deserve to know about those who I am traveling with!"

"Stop trying to dig up my past, Jedi." I warned, feeling the room closing in around me. "You are not going to like who you find."

She narrowed her eyes onto me and laughed a fake, cold laugh. "I don't particularly like you now."

"And I don't like you." I challenged.

"And yet, here we are." She said, spreading her arms out for emphasis.

"Here we are." I agreed. The room felt cold and dead. We had a knack for creating tense situations whenever we conversed for more than two minutes at a time. The silence was thick but we were still having a silent conversation, glaring at each other and trying to make our way through the maze of anger within each of our minds, hoping to come out on the other end with something witty to say. It was in these moments as I angrily stared down onto her short body that my eye caught sight of something shiny and new at her hip. I was shocked to realize that it wasn't the same rusty old vibrosword that she usually fashioned, but the hilt of a light saber.

I felt weak at the knees as I pointed slowly down at it. "When did you get that?"

Glancing at her hip, the Jedi took a deep inhale of breath as if to calm herself. "I just made it. Today."

Folding my arms over my chest, as I usually did in uncomfortable situations, I also took a calm intake of air and curiously twisted my lips over my teeth. "Well, let's see it, then."

I could tell she was shocked by this request. Hesitantly, she reached down for the weapon and unclipped it from her side. Raising it slowly, she pressed the button to release the blade and with a low hum a long yellow stream of light protruded from the end of the hilt. She held it steadily away from me, as if not to be tempted by a re-ignited anger to stab me.

Though I wanted to stare at the light saber and evaluate her handwork, I was distracted by the way she reacted to it. As she watched the yellow light vibrate in and out, her eyes were staring cold and blank and her face seemed to drop a few shades paler the longer it hummed lightly. I wasn't sure if she was about to faint or cry or what. Feeling my eyes on her face, she pulled her gaze away from the weapon to look back at me. "I don't like the memories it brings back."

I hated how she could do this to me. I wondered if she did this to everyone.

I was suddenly no longer angry with her, though I very much wanted to be, but instead I was sad for her. I could relate to what she was saying. I could relate to how she felt. And, once again, I felt connected to her. "Everyone has a chance to change. You don't have to be the same person you were before." I said thoughtfully, very unlike myself. "Trust me."

"I do trust you, Atton." She smiled. I liked when she smiled. She didn't look so … dull. "I just don't like you."

I smiled back, chuckling. "And I don't like you."

For two people who didn't like each other, we certainly wouldn't be convincing anyone of it right now.


	11. Decisions

**Decisions**

Onderon was proving to be a pretty interesting planet. And by interesting I mean a complete and total mess. First, there was the strife between two political figures of Onderon, Queen Talia and General Vaklu. As soon as the word 'politics' came in to play I pretty much tuned out and assumed it had more to do with sexual tension than it did with actual political problems – either way, it was causing a chaotic mess in the city's streets. There were security checkpoints scatted all throughout the city, and if you did not have a Starport Visa you were stuck on this planet indefinitely. Second, we were woefully aware that the man we came to see, Jedi Master Kavar, was held up in the royal quarters with Queen Talia and the only way we could get an audience with him was through Mandalore's friend Dhagon Ghent. Third, Dhagon Ghent turned out to be in prison. This, honestly, was an extreme inconvenience. Fourth, it turned out that somehow, someway, the Ebon Hawk was now planet-wide known as the reason for the galactic battle going on overhead – which was completely ridiculous, but non-the-less flattering.

At this point Alna and I hadn't spoken (argued, rather) any further on what had happened back on Dxun. Inwardly I was relieved that we had not come full-circle into discussing it again, since what I had hoped would turn into a revealed ploy on her part turned into a massive bag on my shoulders. I was still angry with myself for bringing it up so ardently before. Luckily, it hadn't come back up in private or public conversation, mainly due to the fact that I was all too aware of what conclusion the Jedi might come to if pondered too heavily upon.

After not much deliberation and very little complaint on my part, we had decided that it was best if the four of us separated and branched out within the Westen Square as to cover more ground. However, try as we might, the hope of finding some way to release the captive doctor and relieve him of his possible conviction was beginning to fade away into a dream. So far, we hadn't had any luck as a group. If anything we raised far too much suspicion; an obvious Jedi, a one-armed witch, a Mandalorian, and a handsome devil.

The handsome devil being me, by the way, if you hadn't caught onto my drift.

Anyway, Kreia took to the area around the doctor's home, Mandalore busied himself over by the shops, Alna decided to interrogate mindless occupants of the city, and I… well, I really didn't want to be here, so I just made myself look busy, allowing my mind to wander into areas that it didn't belong, like…

How was it possible for me to enter into a Jedi's mind without being trained? I knew what I was, and I thought I knew what I was capable of – but it had never once occurred to me that the stretch of my connection to the Force reached _that_ far. The more I thought about it, the more I knew it to be true. The more I thought about it, the more I hoped Alna would _never_ find out. And there was really only one way to be certain that she wouldn't go prodding around in my past – to never let what happened earlier happen again.

And yet, what if it did? What if I could do it to someone else? What if I could teach myself to enter a mind without being trained by a Jedi? Yet, deep down inside I knew that the Force worked in 'mysterious' ways, and in that light it was capable of being random. With my luck I would be incapable of successfully entering a mind unless it were by the will of the Force, and with that same luck it would be completely unbeknownst to me as to when it would happen. And that, in itself, was frightening.

Walking aimlessly down the long outdoor hallway of the Western Square, engulfed in my own horrible train of thought, I was unpleasantly stopped by a street entertainer with an animal I did not recognize by species. The creature had a long tail, fur, big hands and feet, giant eyes, and the face only a mother could love – probably a great resemblance to what Mandalore looked like beneath that heavy armor, I assumed. In a way it was such a monstrosity of ugly that it was sort of cute, but I digress. The entertainer desperately wanted me to cough up credits to see his furry creature do a trick. I wasn't sure if it would do a back flip, or throw its own droppings at someone, or what… but I didn't care. I was on a mission to do nothing.

"Please," the entertainer begged of me, "You have no idea how long it took me to teach her to do this!"

I brushed my tongue over the front of my teeth and stared at the creature, bored. "Can she erase my past for me?"

"Wha- no?" The entertainer stated in confusion, eyeing me up and down.

"Then I'm sure it's not worth ten credits." I stated simply, turning on my heel. It was in that moment that I spotted Alna, standing a good distance away from me, being rapidly approached by a Twi'lek with Bounty Hunter attire hanging from his shoulders. I wanted to call out to her over the moving crowd in warning, but that was never good plan. If alerted he could hurt her, or worse.

When the Bounty Hunter had successfully closed the space between them he grabbed aggressively at her shoulder and pulled her around to face him – which was inconvenient for me. "Ah, I thought it was you. Alna Skyvold, captain of the Ebon Hawk, is it not?"

My ears twitched forward as I barely heard the smooth, silky, suspicious voice of the blue Twi'lek address Alna. All of my 'danger' radars were alarming within my mind, and I knew that we were suddenly in the midst of an unwanted fight once again. As if he could feel my tension, the Twi'lek's eyes began to dart around suspiciously over the heads and faces of the crowd as if he were searching for her companions to come bolting out from around a corner.

Finding it best to blend in for the time being, I fumbled around in my pocket for what little credits I could scrounge up and half-turned back toward the entertainer, my eyes never leaving the Bounty Hunter's cautious face. "What would… three credits get me?" I asked, distracted.

"Nothing. It's ten to see her trick." The entertainer spat, obviously beginning to grow irritated.

Without patience, I chucked the three credits into the man's face and gritted my teeth, twisting my head around to glare at him. "_Make it do something now_!"

"Imagine what the soldiers would do to you if they knew you were wandering their streets. You're a wanted criminal now." I could hear the Twi'lek speaking again, and I once again turned my attention away from the street entertainer and stared at the face of the blue Twi'lek. He was a tall man, muscled, and equipped with more weapons than I deemed should be street-legal in such a busy and high-security area. How in space did he manage to make it past all of the security checkpoints? It didn't matter. Clearly this planet needed to sort out its priorities.

"How do you know me?" Alna asked slowly, physically tensing as the hunters companions began to merge out from behind walls and creep ever-slowly towards her until she was completely surrounded.

I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't have a clear shot at the Twi'lek's head, since he was standing in front of her which – for me – was _behind_ her. In that moment curiosity began to tickle up the back of my neck, and I longed to know if what she had said earlier was possible… could I reach into her mind and see if she had a plan formed? Could I do it without her noticing? Was it even worth it?

Oh, inward battles always come at the worst moments.

"The Exchange has quite a bounty on you. Your head's worth many credits… as long as it's recognizable." The Twi'lek's companions, at this point, all raised their blasters and pointed them directly at the small Jedi's head. The Twi'lek also reached for his own blaster and did the same, slower, and with a smirk added, "I'd take you alive, but I doubt I could keep a Jedi from escaping. Dead will have to do."

The time for inward battles had come to a close. I had to make a decision.

Unhooking my blaster from my hip, I shot two red blasts into theTwi'lek's face as Alna ducked forward, withdrew her lightsaber, and took the hands clean off of the extended arms at her face, belonging to the two assistants that stood to her sides.

It was to my relief that Kreia had decrepitly snuck back over to the general area, and Mandalore had also conveniently stuck himself at the ready behind an unsuspecting bounty hunters assistant. Before any of our enemies could react, and, unfortunately, before any of the innocent bystanders could scream and run away, there was an open-fire brawl in the middle of the crowded streets. Luckily for us, no one of innocence was injured.

As the dust eventually settled, and everyone seemed less interested in what had just occurred, I made my way over towards the other three and noticed how intensely Alna was staring at me. Once again I had entered her mind, only this time I had done it on purpose. Also, unlike last time, this time she was on to me.

* * *

Fortunately for me, Alna had been so busy with trying to get ahold of Master Kavar that she hadn't had any time to poke and prod me for information on what had once again happened. Not so fortunately for me, our journey on Onderon was coming to an end, and I still had not come up with a convincingly poor excuse.

Sure, sure, I had fumbled around with a few things. I could lie, "I am of an ancient mind-reading race that lives in seclusion and is not yet known of." I could blame her, "You're drunk." I could even go as far as pretending to forget who I was and start screaming and flailing my arms. Or, there was of course the truth…

No.

The truth was not an option, and I have found over time that it rarely ever is. I had to make a decision, once again.

Our last moments on Onderon were going to end as they usually did, though that was unknown to us as we sat in the back of the Iziz Cantina in a dark room that had been blocked off especially for us and the Jedi Master we awaited. There were lounge chairs in the room that were placed in peculiar locations, spread out in seclusion from one another, making it possible for the four of us to be seated confortable yet not together. As we sat in silence, no doubt going through our own play-by of what was about to occur, there was an anxious air in the room.

It was an odd feeling for me, meeting with a Jedi Master. For many years I had hunted and killed so many Jedi that it was only a matter of time before I would wind up toe-to-toe with a Jedi Master. I had just always assumed it would be under completely different, much less relaxed, circumstances.

When Master Kavar had finally arrived there was a switch of the mood in the air that turned much tenser than what I was feeling on my own. To my surprise, the tense feelings were emitting from Alna the closer Kavar drew to the room. As he entered I could see he was a tall, blonde haired man, with a mouth full of giant white teeth, who gave even _my_ stunning good looks a run for their money. As the Jedi Master walked into the room Mandalore leaned forward in what seemed to be surprise while Kreia sat as still and as stoic as ever. Alna, on the other hand, flew up out of her chair as if she had been pricked in the back with a needle.

Kavar stopped in the center of the room, turning to look at all of us in curiosity, planting his final gaze sternly upon Alna's face. "You must have gone through a lot to arrange this meeting. The Palace is at full battle readiness. Smuggling in a message is no small task."

"Master Kavar?" Alna said in a small voice, almost as if she were staring at a ghost. "I didn't know you were still alive."

"I thought you were killed fighting Malak during the Jedi Civil War." Mandalore chimed in, still leaning forward in what now appeared to be awe – it was hard to tell, with him, not being able to see his face.

"It seems my former student keeps curious company." Kavar said with a smile, shrugging his shoulders upward and cocking his head to the side in amusement. "Strange times lead to strange alliances, though."

There was a short silence, in which Kavar made his way over to an empty seat in the corner and sat down softly. Alna turned to face him, still choosing to stand, clinging to his every breath with a tense sense of urgency that I could not quite yet identify.

"No, I survived the war. If only just." Kavar finally said dropping any sign of bemusement he wore on his expression. Kreia made an odd sound which was brushed aside by everyone else. "Why are you here, Alna? I imagine that you hold little love for any on the Jedi Council anymore." He trailed off and there was an awkward moment in the way he stared up at her. "Even an old friend."

Alna's arms folded over her chest and she sneered. It was a move I never expected to see a Jedi throw at a Master, even if she was an Exile. "I didn't expect _you_ would turn on me, too, Kavar."

An obvious pain flashed across the Jedi Master's face. "You have to understand that it was a time of great uncertainty. We just learned that Darth Revan was back with an armada." He pressed the palms of his hands into the arm rests of the seat and pushed himself to his feet. "But there's more to it than that. And I think you deserve an expl-"

"Am I interrupting?" Colonel Tobin walked into the room, five men at his heels, all pointing their blasters into the center and jabbing the ends of them at each of our heads. I jumped to my feet and reached for my blaster, but Colonel Tobin pointed his finger at me and wiggled it back and forth with a warning and a chuckle. "In orbit I thought for sure that the Ebon Hawk was mine. I was certain. Only to see you slip through my fingers during the battle."

"Well, you're not a very good aim." I said under my breath.

He glared at me for a moment and then turned to face Alna. "Imagine my delight to discover you were on Iziz. Quite careless, if you ask me."

Then, things started to get hectic and confusing. In the blink of an eye, Kavar had jumped towards the door, done some kind of front-flip, and yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared towards the Cantina exit, "I must get back to the palace! I'll get word to you when I'm able. Run!"

Just as shocked as the rest of us, Colonol Tobin cursed under his breath then took off after Kavar, yelling, "Men, take care of her! I won't let Kavar escape!"

And that was it.

The sound of blaster fires filled the small room immediately, only to be stifled by the humming buzz of a lightsaber. There were screams, people rushing for the doors, and the sounds of injured men moaning on the ground. I had managed to leap behind the chair I had been seated in and flip it upside down, hiding behind the flimsy material and bending my arm up over the top to shoot as I peeked around from the side. Alna was in the middle of the room, deflecting shots with her lightsaber and dancing around in circles as she stabbed and sliced. Mandalore was up against the wall, and I managed to catch him shoot a man in the neck and chuckle deeply with glee. Kreia was still sitting in the chair. At this point, she might have been dead, I wasn't sure.

When we had cleared out the Cantina we made our way out towards the Western Square where the battle was far from over. We had then fought our way back to the shuttle, which left the four of us in an exhausted and confused state. When we made our way back to Dxun and had safely decided it was due time to get back to the Ebon Hawk, the robot, and the pointy headed bastard, Mandalore decided he had not yet had his fill of crazy, and that he was going to accompany us. I, for one, did not see the need for him and did not find it the least bit necessary to allow him to join in on our little adventure. Sure, he could shoot a blaster, but so could I. And I wasn't a complete ass all of the time.

After hours of trudging through the jungle, we had finally reached the Ebon Hawk.

Walking up the loading ramp felt like home – something that I had not felt in a long time, of any place. As the doors rushed open and the cool air from the inside of the ship brushed against our skin, I openly released a sigh of relief to be finally leaving Onderon and Dxun far, far behind.

However, before we could fully enter the Ebon Hawk, Kreia had to ruin it.

"We have an unwanted guest." She said cautiously, causing us all to stop in our tracks.

With a smirk, I gestured towards Mandalore. "Well yeah, but you could have waited until he wasn't standing right behind us."

"I meant on the ship, _fool_."

* * *

I gently lowered the woman's limp body onto the medical table and slipped my hands softly from beneath her dark red robes. My eyes wandered over her body in shock as I took in what I was seeing. As much as I wanted to be focused in on how I was still going to evade the inevitable conversation with Alna, I was far too wrapped up in the present astonishment of whom and how this woman – this amazing _being_ – came into our midst.

Alna leaned back against the medbay walls, still breathing heavily from her very recent battle, and stared down her nose onto the woman's body. She was silent, except for her breaths, though her curiosity was seeping through.

"Now I've seen everything." I finally said, looking up at Alna and gaping. "This woman… she's a Miraluka. I didn't think any were left in this part of the galaxy."

Wiping at a bead of sweat that ran down the side of her face, Alna pushed off of the wall and stared back in confusion. "What's a Miraluka?"

"Yeah, they're a pretty secretive race. I heard some of their kind become Jedi, but Sith? That's… well, that's a new one." I said thoughtfully, returning my gaze to the mysterious woman. "I'm not sure how you'd go about killing one. It'd be tricky."

"Killing her!?" Alna asked defensively and confused.

I shrugged. It seemed like a good thing to say at the time. "Just mentioning it. She looks like she's suffered enough wounds already… even after the beating you gave her."

Alna gnawed on the inside of her cheek, finally looking as if she had recovered fully from the no-doubt difficult battle she had just had with this woman. "Is she going to be all right?"

It seemed an odd question to ask of someone who had just jumped and tried to murder you. None the less, I was not going to try and understand the minds of Jedi. "Well, some of her wounds are pretty bad – looks like she was already carrying her share of scars, though. I think she'll recover, yeah."

"Let me know when she awakens," Alna said shortly, and with that she made her way towards the door. "And let me know when you're ready to talk."

Staring after her in slight disbelief, I said lowly, "Is never a good time?"

Alna paused in the doorway, glanced back at me from over her shoulder, then continued to disappear down the hall. She was leaving this decision up to me.


	12. Home

**Home**

I knew I was dreaming.

The way that the sky moved so fluidly above me, tangling together with flashy lightning and ominous dark clouds, twisting the air around my skin so that the chilling bumps rose beneath my cold skin – it was all too frightening to be real. Off in the distance, shadowed by wind-whipping sand, I could make out a woman in a black and red robe, cowered down to her knees in a pleading manner before a tall, dark figure.

"_Please… let me die…"_ I could read the words on her lips, but could not hear her voice.

A red bladed light saber ignited above the woman's head and rose threateningly upward. A feeling of heavy panic engulfed me as I realized that the dark figure was going to kill her, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I tried to call out to the figure, I tried to call out to the woman, I tried to move… nothing. Then, when I was certain that my dream was morphing into a horrifying murder scene, a yellow stream of light shot out from a dark corner and collided against the red blade, halting the dark figure's saber inches above the woman's neck. Sparks flew wildly around two bodies as a deadly dance erupted between what I was now certain was a Jedi and a Sith. It was only just before my dream fell away like broken shards of glass that I could make out the face of the Jedi…

I awoke abruptly for no apparent reason, other than my feet slipping from the wall before me and colliding onto the floor with a loud thump. At least, at first that's what it appeared had happened. It only took an additional few moments to realize that I had woken from my deep slumber because the Miraluka had awoken and was staring (er – I _assumed_ she was staring) across the room at me with a chilling silence. She was erected at the foot of the medbay table, her hands folded softly in her lap atop her black and red robes.

And that's when it hit me that the cowering woman in my dream had been her.

Gathering myself into consciousness, I wiped awkwardly at a drool spot that had begun to work its way down the corner of my mouth as I straightened myself in the chair. The Miraluka appeared to have been awake for quite some time before I officially came-to. I cleared my throat, naively convincing myself that she would perhaps say something. No such luck.

The way she sat there was both eerie and disconcerting and I found myself at a complete loss of words as I watched her. I knew what she was and what she was capable of. I also knew that she was probably internally wounded by the fact that she had survived a battle and had not come out as the victor. However, despite the facts, she seemed surprisingly calm and collected – though, so do Krayt dragons, right before they rip off your arms and feed your toes to their children.

Bending my arm to reach around to my back, I scratched nervously at my spine and slowly rose from the chair. Blowing out a long stretch of air, I finally grasped onto a sensible stream of words and held on tight, "Are you feeling all right?"

She didn't satisfy me with an answer right away. She swayed beneath the red cloth draped across her eyes and head, rubbing her lips slowly together with a testing nature. I wasn't sure if this was a sign that I should be either screaming for help or darting out of the room…

"I… I have not heard that question in some time." Her voice was just above a whisper, raspy yet angelically soft. "My flesh is… healed, if that's the answer you seek."

Well, sure.

Calming considerably, I moved closer to where she sat and dropped my arms to my sides. I could hear the footfalls of someone approaching the room at a rapid speed and felt that now was the only chance I would get to ask my burning question. "I noticed you have scars. Who hurt you?"

"The scars are many, and the causes equally so. It is of no importance." She said coolly, squashing any hopes I had had for an answer to my dream.

"How did you find me?"

The question came from the hallway. I turned to look at the owner of the questions as the Miraluka sat as stoic as Kreia – though, being as she couldn't actually see, I assumed that would be a pointless movement to make.

I studied Alna's face for a moment, feeling somewhat unsettled that I had just dreamt about her battling a Sith Lord. Part of me felt like I should say something about the dream, yet a bigger part was kicking me in the groin and calling me an idiot. The Miraluka's response broke in on my inward battle not a minute too soon.

"I… felt you, heard you, through the Force. It was like a sound, at the edge of hearing. And when I heard it, I found I could not ignore it."

I could sense a string of Jedi-related jumble was about to ensue and I was not particularly thrilled about it.

"Who sent you?" Alna prodded calmly.

At this point the Miraluka went on to explain that her master had sent her when they felt an un-identifiable disturbance in the Force. She told Alna that she wouldn't risk leading us to her master in fears that he would destroy us and that in due time Alna would face her master and – in not so many words – fight him to the death. This image both disturbed and intrigued me and I was beginning to understand the origin of both my dream and the un-countable amount of scarring that marked the pale skin of the Miraluka. Things, as they usually did, were beginning to fall into their unsettling places and making everything about this mysterious woman much clearer.

When she finally came to an end of her novel-length explanation, the Miraluka made a statement about Alna that stuck to the back of my mind in an unbreakable agreement. Though most of what she said was full of riddles and deep meaning (things that I take great lengths to avoid) the final stretch of her speech was undeniably true.

"There is a… greatness in you, a greatness that does not stem from the Force. It stems from who you are."

I had felt the words that she spoke far before anyone could point them out to me and, in a way, the words played right into my recent dream as a theme for what the little Jedi represented in _my_ mind.

* * *

My dream had not exactly scared me out of my wits, but it certainly wasn't pushing me in the direction of longing for a wondrous eight hours of slumber. Sure, I was used to bad dreams, but they were usually starring me, myself, and I. As mentioned before, I was plagued at a young age with horrifying nightmares of being taken in my sleep – but I had never had a dream like _this one_ before. This dream felt like much more than a dream. It felt like… a vision.

Even as the thought occurred to me, I chuckled slightly. Atton Rand, having visions? No. It just didn't roll off of the tongue properly.

Either way, vision or no vision, I had plenty of far more important things to mull over that required immediate attention rather than being shuffled aside by more confusing and unwelcome dreams.

Important things like how I was going to explain myself to Alna.

I pressed my back heavily into the pilot's chair and grit my teeth together. No. I didn't want to think about that one, either.

As I looked out at the night sky stretched before the glossy window in front of me I breathed easy at the stillness of the galaxy, allowing my mind to get lost in the serenity of the peaceful span of night. My eyes grazed over the millions of stars until I finally found one shoot across the silky black background. Many years ago I had made it my life's goal to pilot my own ship and explore the galaxy in search of adventure and riches. My eyes flicked down at the screen that showed our trek towards our plotted destination of Nar Shaddaa, and I inwardly cringed. _Home_. Somewhere along the way I had lost track of my life's goal and buried it deep beneath gallons of hard alcohol, lies, deceit, and murder. Nar Shaddaa was where most of that self-betrayal had occurred. When I was a young boy I had ambition, talent, and I knew my place in the galaxy. Now I was a man who had completely lost his way and purpose. What would that young boy think of this man? What would he say to me? Would he be ashamed, or understanding?

I reached out over the console before me and ran my fingers across the smooth surface. The soft beeping of the ship's controls echoed around the room, and I smiled weakly to myself. I knew what an 11 year old Atton Rand would say if he saw me sitting here, piloting this ship, searching for adventure with a crew at my heels. He would be proud – impressed, even. My smile faded slowly from my lips as my hand fell from the console.

Unfortunately, 11 year old Atton Rand did not know his adult self. He did not know that it was only a matter of time before my natural instinct would kick in and all of this wonderful appeal would crumble through my hands. I could only hope that Nar Shaddaa would not be my undoing so soon, because I was not yet ready to let go of this shimmering glimpse of my childhood dream…

I could feel Alna enter the room, as usual, long before any of my other senses caught on. She felt just as disturbed as I did, though obviously about something much different. I didn't make any gesture of greeting towards her; instead I continued to stare out at the galaxies stretch of sky, hoping that she wouldn't break into my relatively calm evening with accusations and questions about things that I very strongly wanted to avoid (you know how women are). To my surprise, when she had finally made her way beside me at the console, she stood quietly, staring out after my gaze.

And it was actually nice. I was quiet, she was quiet. Our slow breathing had fallen into sync, and our calm aura was building stronger the longer we basked within it. We were both just… _there_.

"Funny how we stop wishing upon stars when we grow up, isn't it?" I asked, after what seemed like an eternity of contented silence.

I could feel her thin lips curve up into a smile without even looking at her. I knew I'd like what I saw, if I allowed myself to view it, but I didn't want to ruin the moment.

"You've grown up at some point in your life?" She asked, teasing.

I sighed, rolling my eyes slightly.

Shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her robes, she rocked forward onto her tip-toes and I caught the reflection of her scrunched nose in the thick glass of the window. "I never wished upon stars."

I finally turned to look at her, surprise painted on my expression. "I never grew up, and you were never a child. What a pair."

She laughed, but it was forced and somewhat fake. I leaned forward in the pilot's chair and buried my heels into the ground, craning my neck to view her face better. She looked oddly placid and disturbed, and somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered if she was having vivid dreams about fighting Sith as well. "You look sick."

It wasn't my best line, and I instantly withdrew myself while feeling like a royal ass.

To my relief, Alna didn't seem to have taken my comment to heart. That is, she didn't smack me. "Visas has me a bit on edge. Do you think we will be safe on Nar Shaddaa?"

I knew she was asking if we would be safe from the Sith Lord that was apparently stalking our heels. I swallowed hard and gave it serious thought. Did I think we could evade a Sith Lord for a few days? Possibly. Fortunately, Nar Shaddaa was the best option for hiding – or, better yet, losing yourself.

"Nar Shaddaa's a rough place and easy to get lost in… or for someone to get lost." I said thoughtfully, turning my attention to the console before me and beginning to work my fingers into plotting a course. "If we wanted to keep out of sight from the Sith for a while, you couldn't pick a better spot."

Alna turned towards me and I could sense a sudden excitable curiosity building within her. "You've been here before?"

I paused in my busy work.

If I had any hopes of sticking with this crew for just a bit longer, I had to avoid Alna knowing that I had lived on Nar Shaddaa at all costs. Along with all of my other past baggage, this secret was going to jump to the top of the pile. Smiling up at her, I said easily, "Anyone flying the star lanes has docked on Nar Shaddaa at least once. I wouldn't want to live there, and I doubt anyone does by choice."

Well, I wasn't _lying_.

Her prodding stopped there. I wasn't sure if it was because I was so skillfully convincing, or because she felt that I was about ten seconds away from shutting her out – either way, she buried her chin into her chest and exhaled heavily. "Then let's take the Ebon Hawk in for a landing."

Nodding with confidence, I tapped at the screen and fell back against the chair once again. "I've plotted a course for the Refugee Sector, and we should touch down within the hour." The once calming presence of Alna was fading quickly and I said my next words with wavering confidence. "Once we're down, we should finally be able to breathe easy. There's no way anyone's going to find us here."

* * *

Nar Shaddaa was just as I'd left it; filthy, polluted, and infested with crime everywhere. There wasn't an inch of the large moon's surface that didn't smell of grease any more than there was a safe area to avoid the sticky, humid air. It was particularly warm on this night as we piled out of the Ebon Hawk onto the landing bay, and I found great amusement in the expressions on several of the crew member's faces as the stinging reality of Nar Shaddaa, in all of its glory, hit them squarely in the face. The more we stood around, looking at the gas-engulfed surroundings of the moon, the more I settled into that awful feeling of 'Welcome Home'.

I couldn't believe I had spent so many years on this planet and survived.

A thrilling volt of energy rippled through my veins as the reality sank in that I had the secret upper hand of everyone I traveled with. I knew none of the crew was aware of my years of experience with this place and its inhabitants, and certainly none of them had spent any amount of time here before. On the other hand, I knew people here, and people knew me. More importantly, old employers knew me. To be specific; old bounty hunter employers who had at one point, for a short time, used my 'talents' to their advantage in capturing Jedi. My thrill was decreasing rapidly the more I thought about the ups and downs of the situation. My resounding conclusion was that we would hopefully find who we came here for and leave quickly and without causing a scene. And (last but not least) hopefully we wouldn't come across any trouble while here, even though that seemed to be our redeeming quality in all areas of the galaxy.

A gust of particularly horrid stench blew about the area where we stood on the open landing pad and I smiled, taking in a big exaggerated gulp of air. "Ah… the beautiful stench of decay and desperate living."

Alna winced at me, disgusted. Her blonde hair was once again pulled back in a tight tail behind her head, and her cheek bones were tugged into that 'help-this-hurts' kind of way; though, for some reason, I was beginning to find this look on her somewhat appealing.

Kriea shook her head back and forth, obviously having trouble wrapping her brain around this planet – which made it all the more appealing to me. "This moon... it teems with life. It is difficult to center oneself."

Visas stood beside Kreia, faltering in her own problems with the planet. "Never have I been to a place so alive with the Force, yet so dead to it. The contrast is like a blade."

I tried to swallow what they were saying for a moment, twisting through their riddles and rhymes in hopes to make sense of it, with no avail. I caught Alna and Bao-Dur creeping over towards the end of the landing pad and peeking over the edge, the little Jedi's gray eyes taking a double-take at the plunging distance to the ground.

"Word of warning – watch where you step, or you'll fall for hours." I commented, and she gave me a testing glance. "I won't push you, Jedi." _Though Kreia, on the other hand…_

"Are we going to be okay on this landing pad?" Alna asked, cautiously stepping around a pile of trash as she made her way back toward the group, Bao-Dur following quickly behind her.

"Sure, most of the landing pads around here are unclaimed… or should be. They're pretty badly maintained, so they're not safe to land on." Every face suddenly snapped in my direction, and I had eight eyes glaring at me. I threw my hands up in defense, "Well, I mean, not _this_ one, but they have the reputation, so we should be all right. I think."

Alna threw her hands to her hips and cocked an eyebrow. This was not one of her best poses. "Any problems with the docking authorities?"

"No." I said flatly and then ducked my voice below my breath. "That _may_ have been because I forgot to tell them we were landing."

"Atton!" Alna's voice was like nails running along the exterior of a ship and I physically flinched in response.

"We're fine, trust me!" I reassured her, turning on my heel to head towards the doors of the building.

"You! You there!"

I swallowed a lump in my throat as I fully turned my hips and torso to meet the angered alien face-to-face. Luckily, I did not know the dock manager. Not so luckily, he was clearly pissed that we had landed here, and was seconds away from calling in backup. My mind began to race as I attempted to conjure up an excuse as to why we had landed here and who we were. Just as my jaw dropped to spill out a complete slur of lies, my mind fell blank as the little Jedi's sweet scent filled my nostrils, momentarily choking me with its lure.

I was very aware of how close we were for a split second as she pushed up against my side and hissed into my ear, "Trust you?"

There was something so seductive about the way she did… _everything_ in a split span of five seconds. The way her uncolored eyes glared at me, angered yet amused. The way her lips curled up into a parted escape for her gritted teeth. The way her voice and breath of air rushed up over my earlobe and into my head. The way her breasts ran across my forearm…

I digress.

"Yeah, let's forget I said that." I breathed and was suddenly aware that I'd held in the sweet scent of her hair in my nose.

Ah yes, it was good to be home.


	13. Confessions

**Confessions**

We had been on Nar Shaddaa for several days. The mixture of the horrible smell of the moon and the lack of personal space when surrounded by the Ebon Hawk's crew members had all but driven me to my breaking point. On our third night on the planet I decided to break away on my own for a private drink, leaving Alna and her remaining loyal entourage to continue their aimless search for an old Jedi Master who supposedly was hiding among the filth of the city. If they found him, at this point, I would be both relieved and excited to leave – especially since I could physically feel my 'luck' was running dry as I still continued to manage avoiding any encounters with old 'friends'.

As I made my way towards the cantina, which was conveniently located a mile away from our ship, I became irritatingly aware of something that I had otherwise distracted myself from acknowledging; it had been a very, very long time since I had had the pleasure of bedding a woman. Sure, this wasn't the first time my inner-sexual-deviant had rudely reminded me of this, but it was an odd thing to be randomly struck with the realization of.

Though, it wasn't all _that_ random, for it conveniently shadowed the close-encounter I had had with Alna a few days prior. The mere _thought_ of her scent was beginning to become an uncontrollable problem…

As I walked, steady and driven on a mission, I was becoming increasingly distracted by the women who passed by – not always good looking, but visually pleasing in a _desperate_ kind of way. That was the great thing about being a horny man on Nar Shaddaa; many women were experienced and prepared to throw themselves at you in any way plausible. Sure, it wasn't always sanitary, but I was careful…

A man has needs.

When I had finally arrived at the cantina, proud of myself for successfully making it there without stopping for a 'joy ride' (if you will), I propped myself appropriately at the bar and was quickly soothed by the feeling of my fingers wrapping around an ice cold glass. Unfortunately, the drink was not going to be enough to stifle my new-found desires and I was struggling with keeping my wandering eyes to myself. As I glanced around, hungry for the feel of a woman, a sensational smell of sweet lust drug its way up into my recent memory… the smell of Alna's hair. A low growl emitted from the pit of my stomach – the kind that has absolutely nothing to do with a hunger for food – and I was disappointed to discover that the desire was stemming from a woman of whom I had spent several weeks trying to hate.

Not only _hate_, but betray. Guilt began to claw its way up to my conscious.

Shaking my head absentmindedly, trying to physically rid myself of the thought, I threw the bottom of my glass up towards the ceiling and chugged the last few drops of my ale. This wasn't going to work – I needed to shake this unwelcomed feeling that was beginning to surface. Slamming the glass back onto the bar with an alarming 'tap', I motioned for the bartender to come back towards me and yelled over the music, "Keep 'em comin'."

Oh, and he did.

About six (or twelve) drinks later, I was feeling good and guiltless. I wasn't thinking about Alna. I wasn't thinking about how horrible I was beginning to feel about _almost_ attempting to turn her in for a bounty. I wasn't thinking about how much of my past I had been keeping from her. I wasn't thinking about how I was going to avoid the inevitable "How did you get into my head?" conversation. I wasn't thinking about how good it had felt to have her body so close to mine…

That was the beauty of my being drunk. I was very 'in the now' when I was drunk. As long as nobody came in and forced me to think about things, I wouldn't think about things. Instead, I would think about the long pair of legs standing over in the corner by the band…

"Atton Rand?"

I winced at the sound of my name. I recognized the voice, but it was not a recent voice.

Slouched over, barely managing to keep myself erect on the stool, I turned slowly around to face my addresser. I was not in the slightest bit shocked to find myself staring at a pretty brunette woman with a birthmark above her lip, an amazing body, bright blue eyes, and a giant gun always glued to her left hip. My 'luck' had run out.

Sobering up was not so much a decision as much as it was a demand from my common sense. "Kat." I barked out with a mixture of shock and disappointment.

Kat, a woman of whom I had spent several years with while on Nar Shaddaa, stood before me with a cocked eyebrow and just as much shock plastered onto her face as there certainly was on mine. "Atton, what are you doing here?"

The way Kat spoke signaled slightly less surprise than I had anticipated which forced me to believe that she may have been expecting to run into me. That, as much as I didn't want to believe it to be true, meant that she was informed – by what I could only assume to be the Nar Shaddaa bounty hunters.

Twisting my lips into what I knew to be a charming lady-killer-smile, I decided my best route was to play dumb. "Drinking."

Kat dropped her eyebrow and bit down on her lower lip, her shocked expression morphing into concern. "There were rumors among the bounty hunters that you were here with the Jedi – _please_, tell me that's not true."

My smile dropped. Kat was never one to 'beat around the bush'. I should have been more aware of what I was getting myself into by even allowing this conversation to begin, for I knew Kat _very_ well. She was, after all, the reason I had gotten into bounty hunting in the first place – well, at least for the short while that it had lasted.

When I had delayed Kat the satisfaction of a reply, she tried again, "Or at least tell me that you had planned to turn her in for the bounty?"

Any remaining drunk buzz that resided within my body deserted me as soon as the words fell from Kat's mouth, confirming my biggest fears. The bounty hunters knew we were here – knew _Alna_ was here. Sure, we had been running into bounty hunters in all regions of the galaxy… but I knew the Nar Shaddaa bounty hunters. These hunters would not be as easy to shake off and kill, not to mention the unneeded attention they would bring to our presence.

"You tell the bounty hunters to back off if they want to live." I snapped, shoving my hand into my pocket and withdrawing a few credits that I slid across the bar towards the bartender.

"Oh my – are you _kidding_ me?" Kat stammered, taking a step towards me. "You're really traveling with her? How? Why!?"

I stood from my chair, decidedly done with this conversation. "I have to go."

"We aren't allowed to kill her." Kat hooked her hand under my elbow and baited me into her grasp, narrowing her eyes onto mine. "But we – _they_ will kill her companions. They'll kill you."

As I stared into Kat's eyes I was momentarily reminded of the past. At one point in my life, when I was weak and in desperate need of a distraction, she had been the only thing that made me feel alive. She was sexy, seductive, smart, and dangerous. These were all traits that had driven me toward her…

But now I found myself wishing she was slightly shorter and more blonde.

"Kat, let go of my arm." I said as calmly as I could muster.

"This is _me_ you're talking to." Kat hissed through gritted teeth, shaking my arm slightly and tightening her grip. "I'm your friend. I know you better than anyone – surely you haven't told the Jedi about your past. She'd kick you to the curb as soon as she found out."

I swallowed hard. I wasn't sure if Kat was threatening me or attempting to lure me into her good graces… either way, I wasn't having it.

"Kat." I growled once more, this time wrenching my arm free from her grasp and making a hasty bee-line towards the exit.

"Atton you're going to get yourself killed. They're planning an attack on all of you – you need to separate yourself from her now!" Kat called after me.

I had a lot to think about and though my mind was free of making completely stupid drunk decisions, I wasn't prepared to sort out all of my problems in a logical way. What did Kat mean they 'weren't allowed to kill her'? How did the bounty hunters know that they had arrived on the planet? Was this something I could tell Alna about without clueing her in on my past?

The last question I already knew the answer to. There was hardly a way to avoid my past any longer.

Perhaps Kat was right… maybe I did need to separate myself from her.

* * *

When I had arrived back at the Ebon Hawk it was very late at night. I wasn't sure what time it was, but I was confident that everyone who resided within the ship was far past a level of consciousness, which was a level I desperately wanted to reach. Sleep was what I needed to refresh my mind and sort through all of the problems that had suddenly surfaced in my life.

As I tip-toed through the ship, making sure to close the doors behind me as softly as possible, I peered in and out of rooms and hallways to find most of the crew scattered about and sleeping. When I had finally made my way to the bridge, longing to lean back in the pilot's chair where I usually found myself most comfortable, I was horrified to find that the chair was occupied by a very blonde, short woman.

_Of_ _course_ she had waited up for me.

"You're a liar." Alna said calmly, folding her arms in front of her chest and glaring up at me from the chair. Any sex-driven desires that I had felt for her earlier now seemed humorous and completely insane.

I blinked back the desire to roll my eyes and swallowed the rising slew of curse words that threatened to burst from my mouth. I was in no need of a confrontation with the little Jedi tonight. I was not in the mood and I could feel the consumed alcohol creeping back into my veins now that I had somewhat calmed down from my earlier encounter with Kat.

"And you're short. It's unfortunate how we have to cope with these things." I said softly, stomping toward the chair and placing one hand on the back of it and gesturing for her to remove herself with the other.

"Who are you, _really_?" She asked, narrowing her grey eyes onto my face.

I sighed, long and heavy, wanting nothing more than for her to leave me alone. How did I ever find this infuriating woman attractive? Why was I haunted by her seductive smell when I knew she was capable of being like this? "I thought you were going to let me come to you, when I was ready." I stated, sensing that she was growing irritated with me. "Trust me, ok? Your timing is … horrible."

"I'm trying to trust you, Atton." Alna said sympathetically, completely brushing over any subtle attempts I was making at diverting her questions elsewhere. "You have no idea how difficult it is for me to trust anyone – especially after what I have been through."

I brought my hand up to my eyes and rubbed at them in annoyance as I was reminded how frustratingly stubborn women could be. Rather – how frustratingly stubborn _this_ woman could be.

"What are you referring to?" I asked, grumpy.

"The Jedi Council, Atton. They betrayed my trust by not trusting me." She said softly, trying to pull me into her level of caring while poorly attempting to sympathize with me.

"Ironic, isn't it?" I said very dully and uninterested, plastering a fake smile to my lips.

Alna stood, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear, and turned to face me. For a fleeting moment I had hoped she might leave, but her eyes told me otherwise and a sudden feeling of discomfort flew through me like poison.

"A man approached me today. He said you're not 'Atton' at all. That you showed up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War."

This was apparently going to happen right now, right this second, right here.

I stiffened all over as a burst of rage rushed through every sense of my body. I'm not sure if it was from irritation of her stubbornness, or if it was the ale, but I felt myself completely lose any hold that I had on my emotions.

"I'm as Atton as Atton will ever be!" I snapped. "And whoever your trusted informant is, he's right, I did show up on Nar Shaddaa during the Jedi Civil War… along with a lot of other refugees."

Alna unfolded her arms, placing her hands on her hips for a change. "Is there anything else you'd like to share?"

I threw my arms into the air with disbelief at her blind persistence. Why were we still even _having_ this conversation? "I'm _just_ trying to help you! I don't know why I'm even bothering."

She fell silent for a moment as she pursed her lips and thought. It was a beautiful moment in which naively I thought our conversation may be over. Then she killed it. "Why are you trying to protect me?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I understand it half of the time." I replied, taking a step around her and placing myself in the chair that she had now deserted. I turned it around to face the window of the bridge, allowing my eyes the pleasure of an escape that I longed to have. My ears twitched as she spoke from somewhere off behind me.

"I have to know who you are, Atton. Especially if we are going to remain traveling together." She had said that a lot, in not so many words. It was as if deep down inside her short little body she hoped that her longing to know my back-story would eventually sink in and convince me to share it with her.

"Well," I mouthed, still irritated but slightly less calm, "Don't get too attached to me."

"Why not?" She asked from behind my chair.

I wanted to be somewhere – anywhere – else. Though I had anticipated the arrival of this conversation for quite some time, I had not foreseen myself being somewhat drunk and very much confined to the close-spaced limits of the bridge. Quite on the contrary, I had pictured having this conversation alone in a giant field where the scenario played out with both of our weapons drawn and pointed at each other, right before she killed me. Which I was quite certain would be her desired reaction once she finally knew who I really was.

I pressed my lips together into a hard line just before I whispered, "I'm a deserter. It's what I do."

She was quiet again, as if digesting the statement. "What happened after the Mandalorian Wars?"

I turned the chair back around to face her, blocking myself from the traffic and business of the city beyond the window, and shook my head slowly back and forth. My sober mind was telling me that this was a mistake, but my hint-of-ignited-drunk-ness was urging me to give her what she was asking for. _Prove to her that you were right in keeping this from her for so long_, drunk Atton was yelling within me.

"Damnit – you know what? Fine. Fine, you win! But you're _not_ going to like this." I challenged, tapping my foot up and down nervously. "I was loyal to Revan once. She saved us during the Mandalorian Wars, along with all of the other Jedi who turned on the council – like you." I pointed an erect finger in her direction for added effect.

True shifted her weight beneath her, shoving her hands into her robe pockets. Her face was painted with curiosity and pleasure, her eyes searching over my entire face with obvious astonishment that I was finally opening up. "So you followed Revan – like I had."

No, not exactly.

"After the Mandalorian Wars, that's when the Sith teachings started spreading through the ranks." I continued, "We knew where our loyalties lay – to the Jedi who came to help us, not the ones who sat back on Dantooine and Coruscant, watching us die. So, when those same Jedi who watched us die decided to start fighting us during the Jedi Civil War, we fought back. I fought back."

As I spoke I began to relive the memories as if they were playing in front of my face on a holocron.

"You fought Jedi?" Alna asked slowly, a slight disbelief stuck to her tone.

"I didn't fight Jedi, I killed them. A lot of them." I corrected. "People say killing Jedi is hard. It's not; you just have to be smart about it. There's ways of fazing them, drugging them, making them lose control, torturing them… I was really good at it."

I paused for what I thought to be dramatic effect, where Alna's stunned reaction proved that my attempt had been accurate.

"What's worse is that killing them wasn't the best thing. Making them fall… making them see our side of it, _that_ was the best." My eyes fell to the floor when I finished, recollecting silently.

"How could you have killed Jedi?" She asked softly, confusion clearly building.

"I taught myself… techniques. It's hard for Jedi to sense what you're really thinking if you throw up walls and strong emotions of feelings." I explained, flicking my gaze back up to her face. "Lust, impatience, cowardice… most Jedi awareness doesn't cruise beyond the surface feelings, to see what's deeper. And I was good at that, throwing up walls, and my superiors knew it. Sometimes the Jedi on our side wouldn't even realize I was there."

Alna took a step back, pulling her hands from her pockets and clasping them in front of her. "But you're here now. Why?"

I shrugged my shoulders and pressed my back into the chair. "One day I decided not to do it anymore, so I left. Ended up on Nar Shaddaa, became someone else."

Alna's colorless eyes searched the room for an unanswered question and I was growing more and more amazed at how composed she was appearing to remain.

"But why did you leave the Sith?" She asked.

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek. This was the part of my story that I had desperately wanted to avoid. The feelings that my recent dreams had left me to bask in were drifting back in, and it was as if I was standing in that dark, dusty room once again...

"Well, there was a woman. A Jedi. She… she gave her life for mine." My voice hitched slightly as I spoke and I was aware that my jittering leg was now still. This part of the story did not make me angry or nervous like before. Instead, it pained me.

"Who?" Alna prodded gently.

"I never knew her name. She sought me out. She said she had come to save me." I shook my head back and forth, swaying my dark mess of hair around the top of my ears. "She said that Revan was doing something terrible to Jedi within the Unknown Regions, and that anyone in his service who showed any ability with the Force was sent there, too, to turn them, to break them into Dark Jedi…"

I drifted off. A woman with long red hair faded in and out of my vision…

"And…" Alna prodded further, tugging me back to reality.

"She said that's what would happen to me – that I had the Force inside of me, that's why I was so good at killing Jedi." I continued.

"So what did you do?"

"I did what I did with all Jedi. I hurt her. I hurt her a lot." I furrowed my brow and stood from the chair, walking to the opposite side of the room, facing the wall. "And then, right when I thought she couldn't take anymore – she showed me the Force. In my head…" I reached my arms forward, placed my gloved palms flat against the wall, and bowed my head down to my chest. "And then I killed her."

"I … " Alna began from behind me, then fell silent as if deciding against whatever it was she was about to say.

I slipped my hands lazily down the wall and straightened my back, inhaling a deep breath of air in the stuffy, little bridge. If the walls were ever going to close in around me, now would have been an appropriate time. Since they did not, however, I was forced to turn around and face the woman who had painfully pulled this confession out of me.

Our eyes locked and I held onto the comforting feeling that emitted from her soul, and I was amazed to not feel a heightened anger radiating from within her. After a moment of silence, I felt it was time that I finished the story.

"In the end, she sacrificed herself to keep my secret, to prevent the Sith from knowing about that touch of the Force inside of me. She wasted her life to save me. Me." I jammed my thumb into my chest for emphasis. "After that I couldn't keep doing what I was doing. So I left. I fled with the displaced war veterans to Nar Shaddaa and I lost myself there, until the war came to an end. I wanted no more of Jedi, or Dark Jedi, or the Force. I just wanted to be left alone."

Alna leaned her back against the wall across the room from me. She was staring at me, long and steady, internally going over everything that I had just confessed.

This was not the reaction I had played through in my mind. This calm, understanding, remarkably tolerable woman that stood before me was not what I had anticipated when beginning my story. In my mind, I was 99% positive that Alna would hate me as soon as she knew what I had done. She would hate me as soon as she knew what I was capable of. She would hate me for lying. She would hate me for admitting to having the power to enter her mind. Hell, I hated myself for all of those things.

And yet, she didn't.

Gathering myself, I moved slowly to the center of the room, careful not to break my eye-contact with the little Jedi's grey gaze. "But, then I met you on Peragus." I whispered, for the first time actually aware that there were other people on the ship who could have been listening in on the entire conversation. "And now I think maybe that Jedi had saved me so that I could help you. And if I can't, then I have to try."

I wasn't sure where this new epiphany was coming from, or if it even truly belonged to me. The only thing I knew for certain was that in that moment I meant what I said with every piece of my tattered, ruined soul.


	14. Trapped

**Trapped**

People were screaming and rushing out of the cantina in a hurry. I didn't blame them; it wasn't every day that you found yourself caught in the middle of a shoot-out in your local cantina. I, myself, hardly had time to react to the blaster shots flying in the general direction of my head, though I _did_ have enough time to plainly decide that my drinking problem was inevitably going to kill me; whether it be from alcohol poisoning or running into riff-raff like the exotically-beautiful Twin Suns. It truly was a pity that two magnificent creatures, such as them, could be _so_ deadly. Gathering myself up from my steady stool as quickly as possible I reached for my own two blasters and was caught wildly off-guard as a vibrosword came crashing down upon the weapon in my right hand, flinging it across the floor. Mixed with the emotions of shock and fear all at the exact same time, I gaped my mouth and shot my eyes up towards the blue-skinned twi'lek who now held her weapon's end at my throat.

_Shit._

How did I end up in this situation, you may be wondering? I'll recap.

My 24-hour journey began earlier in the day while I was seated on the hardest bench my ass had ever had the misfortune of planting itself on, perched next to my least favorite person of the group. Mandalore was verbally silent, as usual, but I knew he was retaining the right to send off threatening 'vibes' to me and anyone else who walked down the hallway towards Vogga the Hutt's quarters. It was still unclear to me as to _why_ this giant, metal heap of a man insisted on accompanying Alna and I to the docks – hell, it was still unclear to me as to why he insisted on joining up with Alna at all. The last time I checked, Mandalore's were supposed to lead the Mandalorian people in whatever Mandalorian things they do, which seemed to put him at a disadvantage since he was currently gallivanting throughout the galaxy in search of old Jedi Masters. Then again, who was I to judge? With my past, which was now entirely known to Alna, why did I insist on accompanying the little Jedi anywhere?

She and I hadn't spoken much since my reveal to her a few days prior. And though she didn't seem nearly as disturbed as I had once assumed she might be, her attitude towards me had shifted in a rather noticeable way. Our 'heart-to-hearts' had altogether come to a close and she hardly gave me the time of day when it came to conversing. In truth, I hadn't made any attempts at further justifying myself, though I felt enough lies and truths had been spilled in one night to make up for a lifetime of lies and truths. In the end, the reality of the situation came down to one simple question; where did _she_ stand now that she knew who I was?

Well, that would be easier to answer if she would talk to me.

Mandalore and myself had been sitting on the hard bench for about an hour and I had all but lost my sanity, being internally consumed by my overbearing thoughts. I had all-but mentally zoned out on the bench, hunched over with my chin resting in my hand and my elbow mounted on my thigh, creeping dangerously close to the mental state of forgetting how to blink. My eyes eventually rolled lazily up towards Mandalore, who had amazed me by remaining seated on the bench without murdering anybody for as long as he had. I inhaled steadily, prepared to start up a conversation with him – any topic, really. Lovely weather we're having, isn't it? Do you shine your entire outfit? Is your face _so_ God-awful hideous that you have to constantly hide it for the sake of the universe and all of its life forms?

The door at the end of the hallway opened abruptly, probably in the nick of time, revealing Alna and her 'dancer' outfit. When my eyes fell upon her barely-clothed body my elbow clumsily slipped from my knee as a ripple from my internal aftershock pinched at my nerves. The absolute pale glow of her naked skin in the dark hallway gave me a case of Deja Vu that I was not prepared to receive; the one of the night I met her. Ironically, that was the same night that I had decided that I hated her entirely and wanted nothing more than to hand her over for a whopping bounty. Yet here I was, in the most opportune city for such an exchange, protecting her from the very thing that I had originally sought out to do. Funny how things change…

As she approached us, rocking her hips like only a trained dancer would do, I couldn't help but blurt out a remark that would only be fitting. "_Nice_ outfit."

To my amazement she actually shot me a quick smile (the first smile I was permitted to have since our heavy conversation) which confirmed that she remembered the banter of our first encounter as well as I did. At my remark, Mandalore made a strange noise - something resembling a grunt - and stood from the bench to fall in line behind the Jedi. I waited to stand until they were at a fair distance ahead of me, giving me enough time to admire the back-side of the skimpy dancer outfit.

Her encounter with Vogga proved to be affective, since Visquis (aka, squid face) sent us a personal holorecording not an hour later, requesting a private audience. As to be expected, word had traveled fast on Nar Shaddaa and the little Jedi had certainly stirred up attention from whomever she desired, or didn't desire. Squid face was either setting her up to walk straight into a trap or had vital information to share – a rather fine line, wouldn't you agree? Needless to say Alna took it upon herself to find out which side of the line the squid walked, alone as requested, willingly brushing away our dismayed remarks.

I decided at the last minute to accompany her as far as I could, both as a kindly offer of protection and a last desperate attempt to sway her stubborn, _stubborn_ mind.

Our walk was long and brutally quiet, a trait that I had once admired when emitted from her. On occasion she or I would glance towards the other, expectant that words would somehow protrude from our unwilling mouths, though her thin lips were even less capable of forming a sentence than mine. It was an odd feeling; longing to say something and yet absolutely resenting the idea all at the same time.

She was afraid of saying the wrong thing, I was afraid of forcing it out of her.

When we finally reached the entrance to the Jekk Jekk Tarr I physically forced myself to ask the question that had been burning in the back of my mind. "Are you _sure_ you want to do this?"

Alna glanced up at me from beneath the hood of her brown Jedi robe, halting in her determined stride. The look on her face was difficult to read, though I was certain a hint of uncertainty was mingling with mine. "Do I have a choice?"

"I'd like to think we all have a choice, yeah." I muttered, running a hand through my thick black hair nervously. "Sometimes we make bad decisions; like you, when you chose to ditch the sexy dancer outfit for that oversized robe."

Alna cocked an eyebrow towards the ceiling and frowned, folding her arms before her lovely chest that was currently drowning in heavy fabric. "I was getting mildly uncomfortable with you incessantly staring at my ass."

I chuckled and took a step backward, staring past her at the ominous door at her back. I could hardly rejoice in the way that our conversation was moving along, much like it would have prior to our conversation about my past, for I had a forebodingly bad feeling about what she was about to walk into. "I'll be in the cantina if you need me."

And that's exactly where I was, trapped.

I swallowed tentatively, my Adam's apple brushing against the sharp tip of the sword, and I knew I had mere seconds to react. My options were running thin, for I was now down a blaster and backed into the bar top, alone and without any plans. Fortunately for me, old instincts usually trumped irrational surprises. In one swift movement I smacked the vibrosword to the side with my right forearm, simultaneously reaching for a giant glass bottle that sat at arm's length, bringing the bottle around and propelling it in the direction of the blue twi'lek's temple. I heard the glass break on her face as I skid backwards across the bar, landing painfully on top of the crouching bartender who had taken refuge behind it. He let out a loud cry, the poor old man, though I hardly had time to worry about his well-being. Blaster shots rang out from the weapons held in the hands of the second twi'lek, the light-skinned one who was holding off somewhere in the back, then everything fell into a suspicious silence. Grabbing for my blaster, rolling off of the old man as quickly as possible, I adjusted my current position so that I could peek casually over the side of the bar top.

As I rose, squinting through the debris and dust that began to gather in the messy cantina, I was nearly sliced in half by the same vibrosword crashing down around my ears. I ducked down as swiftly as possible and was pleased to realize that the sword had been lodged into the top of the bar, too tightly for the blue twi-lek to release which was apparent by the way she grunted and groaned while attempting to unhinge it. Ignited by this new-found misfortune of hers, I reached my blaster up over the bar top and shot several blasts in the direction of her grunts. It only took a half of a second for me to recognize the familiar sound of a body crumbling to the ground and my assumptions were confirmed when the second twi'lek let out a horrified cry which, in turn, opened a window of weakness.

Taking advantage of the situation I crawled stealthily over to the end of the bar and spotted my second blaster a few feet off to the side. Determined to retrieve my weapon I rolled towards it, vulnerable to the shots of revenge now firing at me, and scooped the blaster up into my free hand. Unfortunately for the one remaining Twin Sun, who was firing at me from across the cantina, I was a _far_ superior shot.

She took the blast right in the center of her forehead, crumbling immediately.

Silence ensued. I steadied myself slowly, arms still erect with my fingers itching at both triggers. As I stood from my crouched position among the broken glass and debris, my ear twitched at the sound of a blood-gurgling cough emitting from the stiff body of the blue twi'lek. Curiosity engulfed me, as it usually did, and I hurried over to her, prepared to gather details from her dying breath. The sight was not one that I was unfamiliar with; blood gushing from her lips, chest heaving up and down in desperation, limbs twitching as her main bodily functions simultaneously began to give out… it was an image I once cherished.

I kicked at the foot of her knee-high dancer boots and waited until her nearly life-less eyes fell upon me. "Who sent you?" I asked, shocked by the dark sound of my own voice.

"We – worked for – n-no one." She sputtered and gasped, barely able to move her lips.

"What did you want?" I demanded, aiming both blasters at her face.

"You knew – what w-we – wanted," she tried, adding in a cold, gurgled laugh, "Your dead f-friend w-warned – you."

My heart sank. "Kat? You _killed_ Kat?!"

"She w-was a r-rat! And sh-she died – just as y-your – Jedi f-friend – w-will…" She screeched with the last bit of her remaining strength, just seconds before her eyes rolled back and her head flopped lifelessly to the side.

I stared at the twi'lek's lifeless body, still recovering from what she had said. The reality was slowly setting in, just as the dust of the room was finally settling. They _killed_ Kat. They had killed a person who had once meant _so_ much to me. They had killed her because she had tried to warn me – a warning that fell on deaf ears, as I had gone against her words and stood loyally by Alna. Kat's death was my doing, and her blood was on _my_ hands.

A pile of debris shifted to my right and I jumped in reaction, aiming my blasters threateningly in the direction of the shaking bartender. Sighing, I dropped my weapons and replaced them at my hips, offering an apologetic smile to the bartender. What more could I possibly give to him? I had destroyed his cantina, murdered two twi'lek's in it, forever frightened away half of his customers, and almost killed him in the process.

A smile would have to do.

I left the cantina in a full-out sprint, my mind full with images of Kat. She would have been ashamed of me and of the man I had become, which was beginning to weigh heavier and heavier upon my conscious. I _liked_ who I had become, but I had just been the cause of my oldest and once dearest friends murdered because of who I had become. What did that say about me, or the person I was morphing into? Shaking my head as I rounded the final corner towards the Ebon Hawk I decided that the guilt would have to wait, for I had to warn the other companions of what had just happened. If the Twin Sun's had attacked me then that could only lead to one thing…

"We need to move out!" I yelled as I approached them in a hurry, alarming Kreia and Visas who had been privately conversing about - I don't know - blind people things.

"What do you mean?" Visas asked slowly and cautiously, obviously fully aware of the urgency in my voice.

Taking a moment to catch my breath I doubled over and gasped heavily, watching a splatter of blood fall to the ground from an unknown region on my face. I reached my fingers up towards my cheek in reaction and winced at the surprising sting that followed, not surprised to find the tips of them covered in a hot red liquid when I retracted my hand. Wiping the blood away on the side of my pants I looked up at the group now standing before me made up of Bao-Dur, Kreia, Mandalore, Visas, and that dumb little droid. "The truce between the bounty hunters on Nar Shaddaa is off. There's going to be a war."

Kreia shook her ancient head back and forth as if she already knew what was going through all of our minds. "Alna was asked to meet alone; we cannot disrupt their meeting until the alien reveals the information he has."

"No, we need to warn Alna!" Visas argued, which, I must admit, mildly impressed me.

Before we could reasonably argue this dispute out we were interrupted by a green alien with the largest bulging head I had ever seen on anyone. He immediately went off into a long, raging explanation of who he was and what he wanted in an extremely thick alien accent, which I couldn't make my way successfully through. When he had finished his novel of a story, I turned my head to the side, glancing at each of the Ebon Hawk crew members individually. "Yeah – all I understood was 'very'."

Bao-Dur reached steadily for his pistol and gave me a straight look of annoyance, which was aimed for the green alien. "I _think_ he wanted us to give up the General to his poorly-trained collection of bounty hunters."

I pulled my twin blasters from my hips in response and turned back to face the bounty hunters, raising my eyebrows slowly. "Ah-ha. Which one do you want?"

I could hear Bao-Dur's smile in his voice as he spoke, "I'll take the stupid one who decided to threaten us rather than shoot us when he had the chance."

Maybe I had misjudged the pointy-headed bastard.

* * *

The silver droid fell at my feet with a loud 'CLANK' just as Bao-Dur was finishing off the final turret. Wiping a bead of sweat that began to race down the side of my face and mix in with my bloodied cheek, I glanced sideways at Mira to be certain that she had made it through the heavy battle alive. The tall redhead gave me a nod, breathing heavily as she regrouped, and I made my way toward the remaining giant door, _hoping_ to find Alna trapped on the other side. No - she _had_ to be on the other side! The droids had been strong and the turrets steady, causing myself, Bao-Dur, and the ever-persistent Mira to dig deep down within ourselves to retrieve our strongest fights. We had battled many of Goto's forces as fast as we physically could throughout the giant yacht, to the most extreme point where I was beginning to doubt our further capabilities if she wasn't on the other side of _this_ door.

The cut on my cheek was still steadily streaming with blood, though my mind was so focused in battle and concern that I hardly had time to notice; all I could think about was saving Alna. From the moment we found out that she had been captured by Goto my entire body reacted in a way that I had never before experienced. I wasn't sure if my sudden fear and desire to protect her so strongly was brought on by Kat's death, or if I was concerned about losing the only other person I had ever opened up to, or what. With the rate that things had been going today, however, I had no time to sit around and examine my actions – and, inevitably, Kreia would no-doubt have unwanted input into my actions when everything was said and done.

When the doors rushed away with a quiet 'whir' I was immediately overcome with relief. The little Jedi turned swiftly on her heel in response to the sound and smiled at us with mirrored ease at our arrival.

Shoving my blasters into my belt, I walked into the room with Bao-Dur and Mira close at my heels. Smiling coyly, I placed my hands softly at my hips and cocked an eyebrow, "You're a little far from home, aren'tya Jedi?"

Alna rolled her eyes (choosing to ignore me) and turned to Mira, sighing slightly. "Why am I not surprised that _you're_ here?"

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice." Mira grumbled, leaning against the wall by the open doorway.

"General, the others are waiting on the Ebon Hawk. We need to get off of this yacht." Bao-Dur interjected, hooking his thumb in the direction of the exit.

Silently, we all decidedly agreed and began to make our way out of the room. I stepped ahead of Alna, prepared to withdraw my blasters at any moment for continuous battles on our journey back, when a gentle hand rested upon my shoulder. I stopped and turned with questioning eyes, shocked to be greeted by the little Jedi's concerned stare.

"What happened to you?" She inquired slowly, reaching her hand up and touching along the outside of my cheek bone. The feel of her hand sent a familiar rush of warmth to the surface of my face where her skin touched softly against mine. The sincere, soft action made me desire to lean my head further into her hand and breath in the scent of her body… and yet I resisted, deeply disturbed by the realization of my own desires.

"It's a long story." I frowned, staring down into her intense gray gaze.

Alna lowered her voice as if to shield our conversation into a more private tone. "I don't just mean physically. I can _feel_ your disturbance… your emotional pain."

"Also a long story, Jedi." I offered simply, not wanting to cope with one of the little Jedi's irritating pries.

She bit down on her lip, finally retracting her hand from my face, and placed the most sincere look of apology upon her narrow, pale features. "Atton, I'm so – "

"I know." I cut her off with a smile, then turned and headed after Bao-Dur and Mira.

I knew that she was going to apologize eventually; apologize for ignoring me, apologize for all that I had done up to this point to help her, and apologize for not deserving the loyal devotion I was portraying. And at this point in our journey I had decided that I _deserved_ all of the apologies that she could muster, for I truly could have walked away at any moment. I had risked the lives of my friends, I had risked my own life, I had given up money, I had given up a new start… I had given up a lot of things for that little, irritating Jedi.

And yet, for the first time in my life, I could not bring myself to desert her.

**Author's Note: **I wanted to take a second to thank all of the people who have stuck with this story so far and that have liked it, added it to your favorites, and been _so_ sweet with your comments (which I really appreciate since they are the _only_ payment that I receive for the hours of work I put into my stories).


	15. Unnerved

**Unnerved**

An unwelcomed feeling of déjà vu rushed over my hands as I punched in the exact coordinates for the moon Dxun into the Ebon Hawk's navigational computer. I wasn't particularly looking forward to our return to the forest-wide moon for several reasons; one, I couldn't convince myself that our purpose for returning to Onderon was such a good idea, being as Master Kavar had only sent a very _brief_ plea for help with no explanation to follow. Two, Dxun was inhabited by Mandalorians and giant, dirty frogs – need I say more? Three, upon our first 'visit' to Dxun we had actually been blasted out of the sky and forced to crash-land onto its orbiting moon, making the memory of our last visit rather unappealing. I winced in reaction to the sudden flashback of our disastrous plummet from space, absentmindedly grabbing onto the under-side of my chair as if it were about to happen again. So, with all of that clinging to your mind, if you find yourself wondering _why_ we were returning so soon to such an awful place, I don't blame you. To be honest, I initially considered arguing against returning to the humid, sticky moon but I was well-aware that my persistence – no matter how epic – would fall on deaf, stubborn ears.

And, really, who was I to drag Alna away from further potentials to an insight on her exile from the Jedi order? Or, more importantly, who was I to deny the chance of the few remaining members of the Jedi Council to reunite on Dantooine?

After the coordinates had been reluctantly set I gently pushed forward on the throttle to engage into lightspeed, allowing myself one last glance down upon Nar Shadda from the giant window before me. Many things had occurred on that dump of a planet, both in the past and recently, and yet I couldn't bring myself to regret the opportunity to leave it behind once again. I _hated_ that planet. I hated every living organism that filtered throughout its surface. I hated the memories that had been created there. I hated the person I was when I lived there. I hated the things that had been revealed about my past while being there… I _hated_ that planet.

And just when I was about to internalize further aggravating feelings towards the planet and my growing pile of issues, Nar Shadda disappeared faster than the blink of an eye.

Sighing with what I could only pin-point as relief I stood up from the pilot's chair and ran my gloved hand through the thick, dark hair that fell around my ears. I lingered for a moment in the calming feeling of an invisible weight lifting from the top of my shoulders as we left my previous home-planet far behind. I welcomed this feeling, much like I had when I had left for Peragus, realizing that this was the last time I would have to re-visit those old memories and dark hallways ever again. And with that heavy, intoxicating weight falling free from my conscious, I was reminded of something that I now _needed_ to do. It was something that, though seemingly small to the naked eye, was in desperate need of being addressed immediately.

Squaring my shoulders firmly and confidently I headed out of the bridge, inwardly pep-talking myself on what I was about to do. _You can do this, you can do this! _I began to think, assured that the worst possible thing that could happen was a few harsh words and a threat in the form of an insult. _Well, that or she could kill me…_ I paused halfway down the Ebon Hawk's empty, quiet hallway and braced my back against the cold, silver wall. Something in the back of my mind was telling me – no, _screaming_ at me – to turn around. Something was telling me that this was a mistake, that I was about to walk into a situation that I was not prepared to handle… and then there was another part of me that disagreed and knew that this needed to be done. I needed to handle this _thing_ before it consumed me, before there was no way out.

I decidedly pushed off of the wall and continued to walk in the direction of the port dormitory, glancing in and out of the rooms as I walked, making sure that no one was in ear-shot of what was inevitably about to happen; I was going to slap the witch out of her head-game.

Well, not _physically_.

* * *

"Why are you here?" Kreia, who was sitting with her aged legs folded expertly beneath her, inquired from her motionless stance in the center of the floor of the port dormitory. I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't a bit shocking to view such an ancient body gathered into such a limber position. Her back was turned to me, though I wasn't surprised that she knew I was standing in the doorway to her private domain even though I had made no attempts at sounds or a greeting. I knew that she had this expert way of 'sensing' things that could be categorized as both creepy and impressive all rolled into one description.

I folded my arms slowly over the brown fabric on my chest and exhaled slowly, counting the 'taps' of my heartbeat against my ribcage. Usually in times of distress or anxiety I would count Pazaak cards in my mind, but that seemed far too distracting in this moment and I needed something to easily refer to if things began go wrong. My eyes narrowed aggressively on the back of the old woman's dark hood as I stood in the entranceway of the room and I wished that she would turn around to see the look that I was giving to her. Then again, she was as blind as a bat, so I further wished that she had _working_ eyes to see the look that I was giving to her.

"Because I told her. Everything."

I can't exactly tell you what I had expected to happen when these words fell from my numb lips. I'm not sure if I had expected a cantina band to fall from the sky and begin playing a victory song, or if I had expected to feel a glory significant to that of single handedly defeating a Krayt dragon. All that I know for certain is that neither of these things occurred; in fact, quite the opposite arose as I felt a sudden dark shift in the atmosphere of the room that both unnerved and disturbed me.

Perhaps this was a mistake. Perhaps egging someone on to prove them wrong was – for the first time in my life – going to cause an un-controllable problem. And, really, that's _exactly_ what I was doing; I was going to bask in the victory of proving Kreia wrong. She thought that I would never tell Alna about my past and that I would be her puppet until she released me. She thought that I was weak enough to fall as her prey but strong enough to supply her with whatever potential tasks she needed. She thought that I would fly the ship and do as she asked, be Alna's pilot and an extra ally, all while keeping quietly to myself. She was wrong.

And yet her threatening words from before kept ringing over and over within my mind, no matter how strong or courageous I felt. _"And if you disobey me, my punishment will make you beg for the death that has long hounded you." _

Kreia was silent and still for a long time. In fact, she was _so_silent and still that I had almost crossed the floor and rounded her stiff frame to check if she was still among the living. Finally, after what seemed like ages, she cackled from beneath her hood, heaving her shoulders slightly forward with each irritating guffaw. When her laughter rolled to a sudden stop she spoke calm and deeply, "Ah. And so now you are free?"

Something about the way she mocked me pinched a nerve in the back of my neck, causing my hands to form into tight fists and my jaw to clench uncomfortably. I could feel my confidence waning, which I had not been prepared to fight for, but I stood my ground nonetheless. "Yeah – so no more threats, no more of your 'requests'. You and me – we're done."

Kreia slowly stood up from her meditative pose (which I was suddenly proud of interrupting) and turned to face me. I couldn't see her silver, lifeless eyes but I knew by the way her wrinkled upper lip twitched ever so slightly that she was wildly amused by something. "Did you ever think I truly held you?" She asked softly, waving her arm that still possessed a hand in front of her. "Mmm - you are more of a fool than I thought."

I squared my shoulders and smiled, attempting to brush off her insults and nonsensical words. "I don't care to listen to your Jedi ramblings. Just know that I am _not_ here on your whim. I am here because I choose to be and you have no hold over me."

"What truly held you was you – and let me show you why." She then shortened the distance between us in three swift steps which was almost intimidating, even at her _advanced_ age. When she was an arms-length in front of me she spoke, the tone in her voice shifting into something I could only imagine dripped of elderly insanity, "I once held the galaxy by the throat… as you once held _her_ by the throat and let her die slowly... and your emotion at that point is what you fear."

The 'taps' of my heartbeat suddenly broke into that of a sprinter and my skin burned with the heat of passionate anger. I opened my mouth to interject but she continued to ramble on over me, much louder and much more intimidating now, clearly trying to draw a fury from my soul. "I wielded power like you cannot imagine! Everything I saw was awash with possibilities, spreading outwards, touching everything else! I saw all of that, all that the Force is… and only when it was ripped from me did I truly see it!"

"You are stepping on dangerous ground…" I warned, dropping my hands from their folded position at my chest, my fists still clenched tightly. I could feel the holsters of my blasters brushing against my pale-white knuckles, begging me to use them…

Kreia laughed again, cold and crazy in response to my warning. "I know what lies buried within you! That you hide with your desperate thoughts, your guilt, your… _lusts_." She made sure to emphasize 'lusts', once again attempting stir something up within me; and it worked. I found myself breathing heavily, picturing things in my mind that were once my driven desires, inwardly shivering at the images of women and alcohol and… _murder_. "I can unlock that part of you anytime I wish. It is a simple thing, the human mind, once it feels something strongly; it becomes etched in the memory, the subconscious."

"I am _warning_ you." My voice shocked me. It was dark, shaky, and packed with an extreme anger that I had not been exposed to in years. She was poking me verbally, prodding in towards my desires and threatening me with the only weapon she had; my past. And, though it pained me to admit it, it was working.

Before I could react, Kreia then reached forward with her old, fragile hand and gripped aggressively at the collar of my shirt, pulling me towards the stench of her spitting breath. "Shall I show you!? That part of you that hungered to kill Jedi, that part of you that took _pleasure_ _from_ _it!_?"

"Is … everything ok in here?"

The atmosphere in the room changed with a _snap_, morphing from anger so thick in the air you could cut it with a blade, into a calm, serene setting. Kreia released my shirt immediately and turned away from me, returning to the center of the room and collapsing swiftly down into her same meditative pose.

It was the most bizarre moment of my entire life, lasting only a few minutes. I was left to shake with anger on the threshold between the hallway and the port dormitory, glaring with a mixture of hatred and shock at the back of the old woman's head.

"He was just about to take his leave." Kreia replied calmly to Mira who had broken the anger with her disruptive question.

I turned abruptly in response and fled down the hallway, softly pushing past the short redhead while pressing my fingers tightly against my temples in attempts to calm my nerves. I had no idea what had just happened. The only thing that I knew for certain was that I had just been exposed to a side of the old witch that was very … _dark_. Sure, I knew Kreia was old and crazy, but what I had just experienced was _far_ from the elderly insanity that I had picked up on before. The most haunting thing that had occurred within the scenario was that I had felt a strong power emanate from Kreia, stronger than any Jedi or Sith that I had ever encountered, signaling to me that there was much more to that old woman than met the eye.

"What was up with _that_?" Mira's voice echoed from the hallway behind me, her footfalls loud enough to prove that she was quick on my heels.

I slowed my pace, allowing the redhead to catch up with me, then shrugged my shoulders as nonchalantly as I could manage. I knew that if I was going to successfully figure out what had just happened I needed to keep the incident and my new-born suspicions to myself. Breathing deeply, I willed my heartbeat to slow into a normal pace and my heated blood cooled to a calming state in unison. When I felt my body had returned to a relaxed state I twisted my head over my shoulder in response, "She's – uh – just an old witch."

"That seemed pretty..." Mira paused, grabbing my arm and stopping me mid-stride. "_Heated_."

I glanced down at Mira's hand on my arm and twitched the corners of my lips upward into a half-smile. "She has a flare for the dramatic." I said coolly, softly breaking my arm out of her grip and shoving my own hands deep into my pockets alongside the comfort of my blasters. "You get used to it."

She either caught onto the fleeting hint that I did not want to converse about the confrontation any further, or she was dumb enough to fall for my pathetic display. Either way, she changed the subject, indicating that no matter what the conversation rotated around, she wanted to have a heart-to-heart in the hallway. "How'd you wind up with this group, anyhow?"

I'm not sure how well I hid my desire to avoid this conversation but it was better than the prior given the choice. Also, I hardly conversed with anyone on the ship other than Alna and 'crazy Kreia' (as I decidedly dubbed her), so I came to the conclusion that it couldn't hurt to indulge in at least _somewhat_ of a civil conversation with this woman. I began to move slowly forward once again, longing to further distance myself from the old witch's location in the port dormitory. "A chain of unfortunate events."

Mira laughed slightly, falling into stride next to me as we made our way into the center of the Ebon Hawk where G0-T0 and Mandalore were discussing something in hushed tones off on the other side of the room. Mandalore made a gesture of acknowledgement at our arrival and then turned back to the giant hovering ball of a droid. I momentarily wondered if they too were aware of the 'heated discussion', as Mira put it.

When we exited through the other side of the central room, pausing to return the acknowledgement, and had wandered down yet another hallway, Mira found it safe to make yet another verbal observation – something that I would soon learn was her favorite pass-time activity. "You seem like the only one around here with your head on straight."

I had almost forgotten that she was still following me, though her question caught me more off-guard than her voice. Quirking an eyebrow upward, I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes, curious as to how she had built up that assumption. "How so?"

"I mean, you're the only one around here who doesn't just blindly follow Alna around without question." She explained, smiling at me and causing the dimples at her cheeks to cave inward. She was sort of cute, in a short red-head sort of way, but her man-ish outfit offered little help in that category.

"Mmm," I thought on it for a moment and then smiled slowly. "My head may be starting to bend more than you'd think."

I once would have taken pride in agreeing with Mira's observation, knowing that there was no way in space that I would ever look at Alna in the way that, say, Bao-Dur did. At one point in the recent past I would have shuttered at the very thought of following her in any way that didn't include either being forced or having a hidden agenda. Originally, for example, I followed her for the bounty on her head. That bounty quickly morphed into a forced alliance by Kreia. Now I followed her because I felt that I had to protect her. And, as of five minutes ago, I was certain that I needed to keep an eye on Kreia for extra protection. After all, how dangerous _was_ Kreia? Was Alna aware of that side of the old witch? They were connected in a very strong life-death bond, but did that mean that Alna could sense the darkness that I had just been exposed to?

I swallowed hard; did their strong bond mean that Alna had the potential to show such darkness as well?

My disturbing thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a foreign voice emitting from the cargo hold. I threw my arm out to halt Mira and myself in our strides and put an erect finger to my lips in response to her questioning eyes. She caught onto my gesture and we both craned our necks forward with furrowed brows to listen in on the conversation.

"… I've seen that expression on her face before. Now I don't know where she's planning on going, but it's dangerous." I could tell by the fuzzy output of the voice that it was coming from a recording so I moved forward and entered the cargo hold to find Alna on her knees in front of the T3 unit. Mira followed quickly behind me, pausing to watch as the blue holorecording of the unfamiliar man continued to speak. "She's going to leave without telling me – I don't know why, but there's a chance that she'll take you. If she does, I need you to watch out for her. She's strong, but she can't face everything alone. Do what you can, T3 – if she doesn't make it back, then I need you to come back, find help. If not me, then other Jedi, the Republic… I can't lose her, even if she wants to be lost."

The holorecording then disappeared and there was silence. Mira and I exchanged looks of confusion.

"Who was that?" Mira asked suddenly, startling Alna and myself, for the eerie quiet had somewhat engulfed us all.

"I don't know." The blonde Jedi responded, pressing the palms of her hands into her knees to straighten herself up into a standing position. The T3 unit beeped nonsense at her side, bouncing back and forth on its little wheels.

"I believe that was Carth Onasi." I interjected, gesturing towards the empty space of air that the man's face had just projected against. I had seen his face before on news holocrons around the city. He was a decorated war hero and a 'treasure' to the Republic, translating that he had killed enough enemies to be declared important. Honestly, I was surprise that neither Mira nor Alna had heard of him before.

Alna shot me a shocked look, arching one eyebrow high against her forehead. "You know him?"

"Know _of_ him." I corrected with a calm smile. Suddenly, I was aware of how glad I was to be in the same room as the peaceful Jedi as opposed to the same room of the old hag. There was _something_ about the way that the Force moved within Alna that made you want to stand in her presence forever. Snapping out of my momentary daze, I glanced towards Mira and craned my neck in the direction of the T3 unit. "That was a rather pathetic holo recording."

"No kidding – lost love, eh?" Mira agreed, throwing her head back for a laugh and shaking her fire-red hair.

Alna made a face and placed her hands at her hips, huffing at us both with fake disapproval. "Aren't you two just hopeless romantics?" She challenged, puffing up her prefect chest and releasing it with a heavy exhale. "It's strange, though. This was just hiding in T3's memory core."

I took a few steps towards the T3 unit and hunched forward, staring into its 'face' accusingly. "Have anything else hiding in there, scrap-parts? Any death threats, treasure maps, or perhaps your personal plot to destroy the galaxy?" I straightened, then turned my attention back to Alna and shrugged. "I wouldn't look too far into it. Sounds just like a sappy love plea from a man who was being left by the woman he loved."

Alna dropped her hands from her hips and let them fall freely at her sides, drumming her fingers against the heavy fabric of her robe, causing little ripples to wave down the material. She seemed to be deep in thought for a moment before biting down upon her lower lip and mumbling, "I dunno… 'She' was clearly a Jedi. Jedi don't get involved romantically."

I choked on my own spit. "_Never_?"

Alna shifted uncomfortably, glaring at me with her gray eyes. "It's _complicated_. Romance is thought to be a distraction… it's dangerous for Jedi to love. Such emotions are gateways to the Dark Side."

"So, Jedi can't even 'roll around in the cockpit' – if you catch my drift?" Mira asked, jokingly and yet rather seriously all at the same time. I was glad to see that I was not the only one in the room who found this reveal to be both upsetting and shocking.

"Most do not." Alna responded in a small voice, almost as if she was trying to hide it.

Mira and I exchanged glances once again.

I cleared my throat, shuffled my feet, ran my hand along the back of my hot neck, then asked, "… not even… you?"

The look on her face was indescribable. It was playful, mysterious and – dare I say – _flirty_. "I am an exile."

My stomach flopped and I completely forgot all about my unnerving 'discussion' with Kreia.


End file.
